Through the Trees
by Rose Hunter
Summary: Feral Tarani is a fox-like fifteen year old girl living out her days as a healer in District Seven. But what happens when she gets reaped? Follow her as she attempts to survive... with a few twists along the way!
1. Let It Begin

Feral raced through the forest, her bare feet slapping the damp earth and kicking up leaves as her fox-red hair flowed out behind her. They were close behind her, all the tributes she had watched die over the years. There were so many of them. And they wanted to kill her. The trees raced by and everything began to speed up, going faster and faster until everything was blurred and individual shaped couldn't be distinguished. Suddenly she hit something hard, and at the speed she was going at it felt like she should have been dead, but nonetheless she rose to her feet again. She studied what she had ran into, since she had left the dead tributes far behind. It was a large boulder, about the size of a house. Its surface was perfectly smooth. She looked carefully at the rock and realized the letter _G_ was carved into it. She studied the rock more closely until she noticed more letters, randomly carved into the rock. _V_, _A_, _I_, _E_, _N_, another _G_, and _R _were there as well.

The realization of what the letters would spell unscrambled hit her like a slap in the face. _Gavering_. He had once been her boyfriend; he had once been there for her. But that was until the day the Capitol had taken him away from her.

But it was already too late. The rock was slowly rising into the air, somehow being lifted by the decaying body beneath it. She gawked at Gavering's dead body, too scared stiff to move. Suddenly, the other dead tributes appeared behind her, forcing her to the ground and trampling her. The boulder dropped on them all and the last thing she saw was Gavering's face.

She awoke shaking violently, her body coated in sweat. Her little brother, Pinn, stood at the foot of her bed, staring up at her with big blue eyes filled with concern. He was only nine, and Feral was thankfully that he still had a few more years before the reaping would be able to take him as well. She tried to force herself to stop shaking but it took her several minutes to completely stop quivering. The entire time Pin looked on silently.

"Today's the day…?" He murmured, walking around the side of the bed to sit next to her. Pinn was small with tan skin and bright red hair and sparkling blue eyes. There was a calmness about him that could make an angry badger relax.

"Yes," Feral nodded. She looked out the window, a square that had been cut out of the wood, and looked out at the forest beyond. They lived on the fringes of District Seven, which she knew was very fortunate. The forest was a comfort to them, like a second home. "Today's the day of the Reaping."

"Feral," said a new voice. Her little sister, Willow, timidly approached. She was tan with brunette hair. Like everyone else in her family she had bright blue eyes, except hers sparkled with fear. She had turned twelve the month before, which meant that year would be her first Reaping. "What if… what if they pick me?"

Feral put on a faint smile, trying to look reassuring, like the idea was little more then a child's nightmare instead of a terrifying possibility. "Its okay, Willow, they're not gonna pick you."

"But what if they do?" She squeaked, sitting down cross-legged on the bed her small hands balled in fists. "What will I do? What will you do? Who… who would get the water every day if I didn't come back?" It was true Feral knew none of the answers to those questions. Every day, Willow woke up an hour earlier then everyone else to make the journey through the forest and to the river to get fresh water for them to drink. She had no idea which of them would do it if…

"It's not going to happen, Willow," Pinn stated so forcefully that they couldn't help but believe it to be true. There was a long moment of silence in which none of them said anything; they all just drifted off in their own minds.

_What if they choose me?_ The thought struck Feral suddenly and sent a shiver down her spine. The idea that she would have to compete in the Hunger Games… well, to her it was unimaginable. She could barely watch when a squirrel died in the forest, there was no way so could kill other teenagers to survive. It was required to watch the Hunger Games every year and that was painful enough.

She suddenly remembered her dream and she began shaking all over again. Pinn and Willow each took one of her hands until she calmed down. The thought of seeing Gavering so… _dead_… made her feel like she going to throw up. She had once been in love with him. They had dated for six months before he had been picked in the Reaping. She had watched in horror as he had been killed in an avalanche sent by the Gamemakers. Now the only time she saw him was when he haunted her nightmares.

The house the Tarani family lived in was a small, two room shack-like structure. It was entirely made of wood with only one window, which resided in the bedroom in between Feral's and Pinn's beds. The first room, the smaller of the two in which the front door opened into, was the living room, with a table and enough chairs to fit the entire family. On a creaky stool they had placed a small TV that always made a static noise that really got on Feral's nerves. Sometimes the noise haunted her nightmares as well, usually accompanied by Gavering's face. The other room was used as a bedroom for all the people in the Tarani family.

There was a low groaning noise in the bed to the right of Pinn's. Feral glanced over as her older brother, Tier, slowly sat up and yawned, stretching his muscular arms towards the ceiling. He looked like he was tired enough to go back to sleep, and Feral couldn't blame him. He worked twelve hours a day out in the forest, cutting down trees for lumber. It had, however, made him strong, and if he was ever chosen for the Hunger Games he would have an advantage.

"Good morning," Pinn said.

"What's so good about it?" Tier growled, throwing his thin blanket off him and rising to his feet. "It's just another day to slave away under the eyes of the spoiled Capitol. They think we're their puppets, like little toys they can just play with and throw away. Well, let me tell you something! If I get chosen for the Hunger Games-"

"Oh, Tier, don't say that!" Willow cried.

"If I get chosen for the Hunger Games," He continued, ignoring Willow's interruption. "I'm going to make them remember me. Make them realize how wrong and sick and twisted they all are!" He shoved on his shoes and with nothing more to say he stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

"Has Tier got the Reaping rage again?" Sage asked, sitting up. She was the eldest of the Tarani children, with long brunette hair and gorgeous blue eyes. She was twenty and was planning on moving out as soon as her own house was assigned to her.

"Yep," Feral nodded scratching her head. Sage slowly stood up and lumbered over to sit on the edge of the bed with the rest of them. She was taller then the other Tarani children, with tan skin and a slender body type. She looked like she could use another hour of sleep, which Feral knew was completely acceptable for her since she worked in the paper factory every day.

Tier and Sage had both gotten off from their jobs because it was the day of the Reaping. Feral, Willow and Pinn had all gotten off school as well, since the reaping was like a holiday. It was almost a joke. Holidays were supposed to be happy, fun times. The Reaping was about as far from it as you could get.

"So the Reaping comes around once again…" She muttered. She glanced over at Willow, who looked utterly terrified. "Don't worry; the chances of any of us getting picked are… about a thousand to one."

That, of course, might not have been true. Feral had signed up for tessera for each of her family members the moment she had turned twelve, which meant that at her very first Reaping her name had gone in seven times. Now that she was fifteen, her name had been entered seventeen times. As for Tier, who had also signed up for tessera as well, his name would be entered thirty-five times.

"Where's Dad?" Willow asked suddenly. Feral glanced over at their father's bed to see him missing. His bed hadn't even been made. But then again, it usually wasn't on Reaping day. Just like Feral, he usually had haunting nightmares on the night before the Reaping. He would be long gone by now, taking a walk in the forest, thinking over what he would do if one of his children were picked in the Reaping. Already, he had lost a child, Ivy, to the Hunger Games. She had been the eldest of the children and had been chosen when she was only thirteen. Feral hadn't been old enough to remember her very well, but she did remember her death. She had been decapitated by the other District Seven tribute named Hiro Firr. Hiro had made it to the final four, but was killed off by the victor whose name Feral couldn't remember when he was impaled with a spear.

"He must be out hunting," Pinn replied, not realizing the pain the day brought him. Although hunting was against the law, it was one of the only things keeping them alive. Their father had a twisted leg, which made it almost impossible for him to find a job. Instead, he went out into the forest with his throwing daggers and waited in the bushes for game to walk by. When it did he would throw a dagger at it and kill it. He would then bring it back for the family to eat.

He once taken all of the Tarani children out into the forest and tried to show them how to hunt; it hadn't gone very well. Pinn had horrible aim and was a slow runner. Willow was scared of everything and rustled the leaves to much. Feral almost broke down into tears whenever the prey died. Tier was slow and every animal within a three mile radius could hear him coming. Sage had absolutely no patience whatsoever.

Feral was a healer, not a fighter. Whenever someone was injured they were taken to her, and although she was young she was the best healer in that area of District Seven. They paid her to help them so it kept her out of the factories or from having to cut down trees. And she loved it. Helping people made her feel like she was actually doing something to improve the world. She had what their father called 'healing hands' with a gentle but firm touch and soft skin.

They sat around for a while, no one really saying anything, just lost in their own little worlds. Feral, Sage and Pinn had tough bread for breakfast, but Willow refused to eat anything. "I'm not hungry," she said.

"But you'll need your strength," Feral argued, playfully shoving a ripped-off piece in her mouth. She swallowed it indignantly while the rest of them laughed. Their giggles slowly faded into silence as they ate their breakfast.

"Oh!" Sage said suddenly. "The District One Reaping must be on!" Sage crossed over to the TV and flipped it on. It was already on the channel showing the District One Reaping where they were watching the video President Snow had recorded explaining why the Hunger Games existed.

For some reason Sage enjoyed seeing who was picked every year. She claimed it was 'interesting', seeing all the different people from the other districts.

"Ladies first," A man said when the video had ended. He reached into the glass orb and pulled out a name. "Feriday Lilian!" A small twelve year old girl attempted to make her way to the stage but was quickly replaced by a sixteen year old Career named Spark Earideth. Spark was beautiful and petite with a muscular build. She had blonde hair streaked with pink highlights, and strange yellow-green eyes.

Feral compared herself to Spark, although she wasn't entirely sure why. Feral was taller, with fox-like red hair and bright blue eyes. She was fair, like Spark, and was skinny but not nearly as muscular. Spark had a certain quality to her that made everyone positive that she would be a killer in the arena.

Next were the boys, "Aron Chashier!" The man called out. A four-teen year old boy stepped up onto the stage before a handsome career named Chance Redner volunteered and took his place. Chance was average height, with spiky blonde hair and dark green eyes. Sage gasped when she saw how handsome he was.

"He's a Career, Sage," Willow reminded her.

"Whatever," Sage rolled her eyes. Sage might have found the Reaping to be exciting but Feral thought it was just downright depressing. It made her sad, looking at the people going into the Hunger Games and knowing that only one of them was going to survive.

"I'm going for a walk," Feral announced, rising from her chair and heading to the door. She slid on her boots and slung her brown messenger bag over her shoulder before stepping out into the cool morning air. She waved at their neighbor who was watering her garden before turning off to head to the forest.

"Daisies are gorgeous this time of year," she said when she reached the electrified fence. Suddenly, a rope latter dropped down from a tree branch that hung over the fence. She smiled and glanced around to make sure the Peacekeepers weren't watching before climbing up and pulling herself into the tree. A ten year old boy named Tomm sat cross-legged on the branch.

Just because District Seven was the lumber district, didn't mean the forests were free for wandering. They had separate, fenced-off sections of the forest that they got lumber from in which the only animals that could be found there were birds. The only plants that grew there were the towering pines.

"Hey Feral," he said casually. Tomm manned the rope ladder on weekends. It was illegal to go into the forest and the fence was always electrified, so this was an actual business for some of the District Seven citizens. "You have the fee?"

"Sure, Tomm," She smiled faintly. She unzipped an outside pocket on her messenger bag and pulled out an old silver necklace which she placed in his hand. It had been their mothers but was so rusted it looked nothing like what it had when she had been alive. No one ever wore it, anyway, so there was no point in keeping it.

He reached over and plucked the necklace from her grasp. He examined it for a second before shoving it in his pocket. "You may pass." He crawled up onto another branch to let her go. She climbed down the tree with ease and dropped the last five feet to the ground. Tree climbing was something she had been doing her life, as had almost all the children from District Seven. For her, it was as easy as walking.

The air smelled richly of pine needles as she made her way deep in the forest. She walked slowly, observing the scenery and trying enjoying the fresh air. Every once in a while she stopped to collect herbs which she used in her healing practices. If mixed the right way many of the plants in the forest could make very useful remedies and antidotes. The medicines that were for sale in the stores in District Seven were expensive; she could make cures that were almost as good just by gathering herbs from the forest.

She stayed in the woods for several hours until the sun began to rise in the sky and she knew that she needed to head back inside district boundaries so she could get ready for the Reaping. She made her way back to the tree and climbed over waving her goodbye to Tomm. He kind of reminded her of Pinn, the way he sat and his facial features. But he was no where near as intelligent as her little brother and no where near as well mannered.

Feral climbed down the rope ladder back into District Seven. She headed back over to her house and walked through the door. Their father sat at the kitchen table, staring off into space. He was tall and tan with brown hair the bright blue eyes that were such a trademark of their family. He barely glanced up as she walked in.

"Hey, Dad," she said, walking over the cabinet and starting to place the herbs inside. It was her medicine cabinet, where she kept all the things she needed to heal people.

"Hey, sweetheart," he said quietly, waving in her general direction but not looking over from his spot on the wall. She wondered if he was waiting for it to move. Feral sighed, but didn't say anything else as she unpacked her herbs. She headed into the bedroom where everyone was getting ready. Sage was already dressed and looking excitedly nervous, her brunette hair tied up in a bun and fake pearl earrings in her ears. She was in a beautiful blue dress that went down to her shins and wearing a fake pearl necklace and bracelet that matched the earrings. Willow sat on her bed in a dark grey dress that went down to her knees, letting Sage do her hair. Pinn sat on his bed in his best shirt and pants, worriedly twiddling his thumbs. Tier stood by the window in a flattering outfit, staring outside at the forest beyond.

Feral walked over to the girls' closet and pulled out a short, green dress. It had sleeves that went down to her elbows and silky fabric that was comforting to the touch. She pulled it off its coat hanger and laid it on her bed. Climbing out of her clothes she slid it on and studied herself in their gritty, body-length mirror. She looked beautiful, the green complimenting her red hair. It reminded her of a forest on fire.

"Let me do your hair!" Sage demanded, coming up behind her. Not waiting for an answer, she guided Feral over to one of the beds where they sat down and she braided her hair down her back.

"You look beautiful," said Willow, coming over to stand in front of them. All as one, they made their way to the town square. Everyone in the city had to be there; else they would be severally punished. After checking in, Feral kissed the rest of her family good luck, before making her way to stand with the other fifteen year old girls in front of the Justice Building. On the stage, Eve Tern, the other District Seven tribute mentor, and the mayor waited for everyone to settle down.

"You look great," said a voice behind her. Feral turned to see her best friend, Sash, standing behind her with a blank expression and a pained look in her brown eyes. She hated the Reaping. Sash was tall, with olive skin and wavy brown hair. She kept glancing over at the sections for the fourteen and the twelve year olds where her two little sisters would be.

"They'll be fine, Sash," Feral said. "We'll all be fine." She wasn't sure whether she was saying this to convince Sash or herself.

"Welcome, welcome," said Kiena Dirthwig. She wore a bright pink wig and matching dress. Her heels were five inches tall and Feral was slightly concerned that she was going to fall and hurt someone. "Happy Hunger Games!" That was contradictory. "And may the odds be ever in your favor!"

After a few more smiley words from Kiena they played the video recording of President Snow explaining why the Hunger Games were necessary. It was the video that always made Feral want to bang her head on a table. It was horribly boring and made absolutely no sense. Why would anyone punish someone for something they didn't do? The children hadn't been in the rebellion, their ancestors had. Not that she disagreed with the rebels' beliefs.

"Ladies first," Kiena said as the video ended. She stepped up to one of the glass balls and sank her arm in slips of paper. She could feel everyone in the audience holding their breath as she unfolded the paper and paused dramatically. "Feral Tarani!"


	2. Quiet

Who would be the next tribute? Apparently, it was Feral.

Everything seemed to happen in low motion. Sash raised her hands to her mouth to hide her gasp as tears began to well in her eyes. Feral's father let out a screech of anger and had to be held back by the other parents. Willow fell to her knees and sobbed into her hands. Pinn closed his eyes and began to mouth words Feral couldn't make out.

She made her way up to the stage. Everything felt like it was underwater. All the sounds were quieted and sounded fuzzy, and everything moved slower then it should have. But when she reached Kiena, everything returned to normal and the effects of the mortified looks on her family's faces finally kicked in. She had to hold back tears.

"Are there any volunteers?" Kiena asked. The entire crowd fell silent as they waited for someone to speak out. Sash looked like she was about to volunteer when her fourteen year old sister ran to her side and covered her mouth. Willow stood up and opened her mouth but no words came out.

Feral was going to the Hunger Games.

"Alright, time for the gentlemen, then," Kiena said, still smiling as if Feral's entire world hadn't just shattered before everyone's eyes. She dug elbow-deep into the slips of paper and shuffled around for a few seconds before pulling out the slip of paper. "Merchan Diar!"

Feral held back a gasp. She knew the eighteen year old from the few times she had gone with Tier to the field to watch him chop down trees. He was huge and tan, with black hair and harsh green eyes that reminded her of those of a snake. She had seen him swing an axe before. She didn't stand a chance.

She could tell by the expressions on her family's faces that they agreed with her thoughts. She glanced up at the big screens mounted on nearby building and couldn't help but scream in her mind about how incredibly small she looked standing next to him.

"Ladies and gentleman," Kiena continued. "Our tributes… Merchan Diar and Feral Tarani!"


	3. Be Brave

The crowd cheered. Family and friends cried. They were lead into the Justice building. Their new mentors studied them up and down. Eve said Feral had 'potential'. The male mentor, named Becken, said Merchan looked like a real killer. Feral couldn't help but laugh a little and agree. Merchan just stared at her like she was prey, which she had a feeling she soon would be.

Eve led her into a separate room and she knew from the stories that this was the room in which people would come to say their goodbyes to her in. She sat down on a leather coach, wishing she could just sink into the covers and never come out. That was usually what she did when things got hard for her. Hide. Wait out the storm, like a fox in its den. But there was no running. Not from the Capitol. Not from the Hunger Games.

"Good luck," Eve bid her, patting her awkwardly on the shoulder before heading out of the room. Feral's family were the first people who came in to visit her of course. Immediately she was bombarded with words that got tangled up in her mind. Encouragement, survival tips, reminders on ways to kill people… after a minute or two she just faded away, too lost in fear and helplessness to hear anything.

"Alright!" Her father's voice rose above the rest. The room fell silent and Feral was pulled back to reality. "Feral's… going through a lot right now; we all need to try to be understanding, okay?"

Sage was the first to walk up and embrace her. Sage had to be able to clearly remember the death of her older sister. It had to hurt so badly to remember Ivy so well, and how she died as well. Sage back up and looked her in the eyes. "Feral, whatever you do, you have to be strong."

"I can't kill anyone…" she whispered.

"We know," she nodded. "Do what you do whenever life gets hard for you. When you get in the arena we want you to get as far away from everyone else as possible. Build a den and stay there until there are only two of you left. Do you understand?" Feral nodded.

Willow ran over and embraced her so tightly she thought her eyes might pop out. "Please, Feral… be brave… be brave for us?"

"I will, Willow," She nodded, a tear racing down her cheek.

"And when it comes down to only two," Tier said, strong enough to say what no one else could. He didn't make eye contact with her, just staring intently at his feet like he thought his shoes had just been picked for the Hunger Games instead of his sister. "You have to kill the other. Poison their food. Stab them. Do whatever it takes."

"I…" The words caught in Feral's throat. "I will…"

Pinn walked over and embraced her, as did the rest of the family. They were taken out of the room and Feral was left alone again. She whipped her tears, trying to be ready for her next visitor. Sash came in next. She rushed into the room and, sobbing, hugged friend tightly. They didn't say anything to one another for the entire time. They just stood there, hugging and crying, until the Peacekeepers came and took her away.

Unpredictably, her next visitor was Tomm. He walked into the room with a grim expression on his face and held out his hand. At first, she thought he expected her to take it for some reason, but then noticed what was in his palm. It was the necklace she had given him earlier as payment for crossing into the forest, but all the rust had been removed somehow, leaving the silver necklace as beautiful as it had been the first time her mother had worn it. It was a simple silver chain, but on it was a silver leaf that gleamed in the sunlight. "Take'n as your token?" Feral nodded, tears welling up in her blue eyes from the sweetness of the gift. She reached out with a shaky hand and clipped it around her neck. Tomm left and she was once again alone.

Many others came in over the course of her goodbye hour. Friends. Distant relatives. She didn't realize how popular she was. When the hour was up they had barely gotten through everyone in time, according to Eve. They met up with Becken and Merchan, who didn't look at her, and they were herded onto the train by a group of Peacekeepers. The train was gorgeous, with expensive items strewn everywhere. There was an entire table covered with delicious-looking foods Feral had never seen before. It was so much more food then they had at home, and her family was doing better then many in District Seven. She bounded over to the table and sampled a small pink ball-shaded treat. It was hard on the outside, but the inside was melted chocolate, and the flavor exploded in her mouth. Eve rolled her eyes before joining Feral at the table while Merchan and Becken sat down on a couch and started talking quietly.

"They're talking strategy," Eve said, reading her mind.

"Should we be doing that, instead of pigging out at the food bar?" Feral asked, sliding a purple-tinted cookie into her mouth. It tasted like a mix between sugar, peanut butter and mint.

"No," Eve said. "Becken doesn't seem to understand it very well, but it's better to wait and see who your opponents are first."

"Yeah, that makes sense," Feral nodded. Eve studied her for a second. "What?"

"I like you a lot better then all the other tributes I've mentored." Eve said, grinning slightly. "Hey, with any luck, you won't be brutally murdered!" With that, Eve walked off to go turn on the TV and wait for the replays of the Reaping to come on. Feral stopped for a minute to think about how she should take that comment before shrugging and returning to indulging herself in the food. "It's on!" Eve called out.

Feral trotted over to the coaches and sat cross-legged next to Eve. They played the District One Reaping first, of course, and Feral was suddenly set off by the realization that she was going to have to fight Spark and Chance, along with Merchan. She didn't stand a chance.

Next came District Two. Oddly enough there weren't any Careers from District Two that year, just a rather quiet eighteen year old girl named Bree and a jumpy looking boy named Blade. It was unusual but Feral decided to go along with the fact that it was a whole lot better for her.

Then was District Three with a twelve year old girl named Portrait and a fifteen year old Career named Teck. He was tall and pale with dusty brown hair and icy blue eyes. She swallowed nervously when she saw him volunteer, aware that although he wasn't as muscular as Merchan or Chance he was obviously going to be just as big a threat.

District Four came on and Feral sighed at the beauty of the fishing district. An airheaded Career named Rivera was the first of their tributes. She was tall, slender and fair with blonde hair and deep blue eyes that Feral knew would be useful in entrapping the audience. She couldn't help but notice how handsome the male tribute was. His name was Rowan Dennark. He was tall and tan with black hair and dark green eyes that made Feral's stomach flutter. He was muscular, but he wasn't a Career. Feral actually had to remind herself that she would have to kill him in a week or so.

"The stylists are going to have a good time with that one," Eve chuckled.

Next came District Five, with a mean looking Career named Hera and a short twelve year old boy named Jess. District Six wasn't anything special, either, except that their male tribute, named Tinn if Feral heard them right, was blind.

When District Seven came on, Feral could see the tears that welled up in her eyes as she walked on stage, but she didn't care. She cared more about how tiny and pathetic she looked next to Merchan, who was huge and intimidating. After the tears faded from her eyes, however, she looked clever and witty.

"Like a fox," Eve noticed.

District Eight's female tribute looked a little off. She was overly jittery with short, messy blond hair and wild bright blue eyes. The boy was tall, tan and handsome with wavy blonde hair and dark blue eyes. He looked unfocused, like he was off in his own little world.

"Multiples of four seem to be getting lucky this year," Becken observed. "I wonder who'll be picked in Twelve." Nine came with its usual, a sad looking male tribute and a rude looking female. Ten had two tributes named Robin and Stallio who both looked very fit. Eleven got a ferocious-looking eighteen year old boy named Wrath and an intelligent looking thirteen year old. Twelve got unfortunate with a very scraggly girl named Lill. They did, however, get a very tall and clever looking boy named Tariff. He looked strong, probably from all the days spent down in the coal mines. He wasn't bad looking, either.

"Told you so," Becken muttered, annoyed that Merchan didn't look at all amused. Eve flicked the TV off and stood up. She grabbed Feral by the arm and pulled her off down the hallway to a door. Inside, the room was simple, with a bed, a closet and another door that led to a bathroom.

"Is this my room?" Feral asked, curiously.

"No, it's a jabberjay's," she said seriously. Feral glanced at her. "Of course it's yours! Now we need to talk strategy."

"Okay," Feral said, going and sitting on the edge of her bed. She nervously ran her fingers through her hair, waiting for Eve to speak.

"You have a sort of… fox-like appearance about you," Eve stated. Feral, of course, already knew this. "You're small, and you kind of bound everywhere. And you look clever, but playful. Aha, that's our angle! Clever but playful, like a fox. Can you pull that of, sweet-cheeks?"

"Yeah, sure," Feral nodded. "But what about the arena? How should I play it in there?"

"We'll get to that when the time comes," Eve said. "For now, we just work on our angle for the interview. "Show me your best fox-like smile." Feral put on her usual smile, the one she wore every day. She didn't think it would be what Eve wanted but when she saw it she grinned. "Great. That's all I needed. You already act like a fox, clever and playful, just remember to look like one. Even when you're just around the other tributes, it's important that they see you that well just as much as the audience does. Tomorrow, we reach the Capitol!"


	4. Chariots, Curses, and the Capitol

The next day they were immediately herded into the Tribute Tower so the prep teams could begin work on them. They waxed down Feral's body, making her feel awkward and hairless. They curled her hair, giving it a wavy look. They applied little makeup, only blush and mascara, so that when they were done she looked beautiful but still recognizable. Her prep team didn't say much to her. They were to busy getting her ready for her stylist.

When her stylist did come in he didn't say anything. Her prep team informed her that he had been born mute but that his name was Ollo. The prep team left them and for a moment he just stared at her in her paper gown. After a few minutes of awkwardness he headed out of the room and came back holding the most beautiful dress Feral had ever seen. It was tight and would go halfway to her knees before frilling out at the ends. It was patterned with leaves and their shadows and when Feral put it on she looked gorgeous. She was given a wreath to put around her head and one to wear around her wrist as well. She was to wear flat, black sandals that matching the shadows of the leaves on the dress.

"You know," Feral said as Ollo placed the wreath delicately on her head. "My little sister wants to be a stylist." Feral thought she saw a slight smile cross Ollo's face but if it was there at all it vanished as quickly as it came. He picked up her mother's necklace, which had been sitting on a nearby countertop, and slipped it around her neck. Two Peacekeepers came in and lead her out of her prep room and to a large hangar. Horses set up to pull the chariots stood patiently, awaiting for the signal to go. The Peacekeepers lead her to a chariot where two bay stallions stood impatiently pawing at the ground. Merchan already stood on the chariot in a suit patterned like hers with a matching wreath. He didn't even look at her when she arrived.

Feral hated waiting so she looked around instead. Some of the other tributes were already there. Spark and Chance waited on their chariot, talking and laughing like old friends. They were in tight, shiny golden outfits that emphasized their strong body shapes. Teck from District Three was there but the twelve year old who he'd be sharing his chariot with had yet to arrive. There were a few others as well, but the blind boy from District Six named Tinn caught her attention. Six was the transportation district, and his light blue suit was patterned to look like the sky. The blue matched the blue of his eyes, giving him a supernatural sort of appearance.

Remembering she was supposed to be a fox, Feral bounded over to him. She felt the eyes of the other tributes trained on her as she did so, surprised that she was going to talk to a tribute from another district. Even Spark and Chance had cut short their conversation to watch. Feral put a playfully-friendly-yet-clever smile on her face, remembering what Eve said. Tinn heard her approach and positioned his head in her general direction.

"Hi!" She said cheerfully, when she reached him. "I'm Feral, one of the tributes from District Seven."

"I'm Tinn…" He said tentatively. He was only thirteen and several inches shorter then her. He had messy brown hair that had been styled to look like the wind was blowing through it, even though it actually would be when he got on his chariot to ride through the Capitol. He held a black cane in his left hand which he must have used to get around without hitting anything. "From District Six…"

"I've heard such nice things about Six," She lied. She never really heard anything about the other Districts, but she was trying to make friends. A playful fox did need to have someone to be playful with, and he looked so lonely. "It's nice to meet you!" Feral took his right hand and guided it into her own, shaking it vigorously. "District Seven's nice, too, of course. We have trees that can grow hundreds of feet tall and so many song birds that you can't tell their individual melodies apart! I miss it already. What's Six like?"

"Well…" Tinn said, slowly warming up to her. "You can always hear the rush of the wind over the lakes… we have huge lakes back in Six. And you can always hear the clanking of tools as people are building the hovercrafts and trains. The air always smells like lake water and motor oil. It probably doesn't sound very attractive to you, like how forests and birds don't sound that attractive to me, but it's my home…"

"I understand," Feral nodded. "And I agree with you. Everyone has a soft spot for their homes, no matter where they are from. But see, the clever people… we use or homes to our advantage." She said that with the little I-know-something-you-don't grin that Eve had asked her to do on the train. The must have gone through ten different smiles until she memorized all of them and when she should use them. She could see Spark narrowing her eyes in her peripheral vision and the mad Tiff, who had arrived while they were talking, scratching her head in confusion. Jenn Kenneler, the female tribute from Six, walked over to them looking slightly protective.

"I see you're trying to intimidate us," Jenn said with a slight smile. "That is a beautiful dress by the way." Feral thought she found an edge of sarcasm hidden under the words. Jenn, on the other hand, was in a hideous dress that matched Tinn's suit and fell to her ankles. She wore four-inch heels, and looked like she was about to fall over. She wore a charm bracelet with hovercrafts and train cars on it. _It's the only decent part of her outfit…_ Feral thought to herself.

"Thanks," Feral giggled, pretending she hadn't caught the sarcasm. During practice, Eve had specifically said that foxes were never aggressive, just playful and clever, like they had everything planned out and knew everything that was going to happen. She was to never look shocked or frustrated, just smugly happy. Out came the playful smile. "And I don't think a small, redheaded girl can be very intimidating, no matter what happens!" Jenn realized there wasn't any hostility in Feral's voice and laughed as well. They shook hands.

Feral glanced at the boy walking in the doorway and had to do a double-take. Rowan was soaking wet and in dark blue swim shorts. His right arm was wrapped in a fish net and held a tall, golden trident. He was extremely gorgeous. Tinn had wandered off, saying he needed some fresh air before the ride through the Capitol but Feral barely noticed him go.

"Aw, is foxy smitten?" Jenn asked with a grin. Feral realized she was staring.

"Um, no," Feral said, quickly regaining her composer and fox-like attitude. She grinned. "But it's pretty hard not to be." The girls laughed. Feral waved at Jenn before decided to bounce over to Rowan and say hello.

"Well, you're definitely pulling off the District Four look," She giggled when she got over there. He studied her with a slight smile, as if he hadn't decided how to react to her approach. After a few seconds he stepped towards her until he was only a few inches away. Feral felt her heart beating hard inside her chest and forced herself to keep her composure.

"Well, you don't look to bad yourself," He smiled. She knew instinctively that that was how his mentor had told him to play it. Flirtatious. But she had been told to play fox-like. And that was all it really was after all, a game, so she might as well play. He looked at her thoughtfully. "What's your name?"

"Feral," She replied.

"District Seven, I presume?" He asked and she nodded. He brushed a strand of hair out of her face and tucked it behind her ear. "You know… I grew up in the fishing district alongside the oceans. I've seen pretty things in my life… but nothing can compare to your beauty."

"Feral! There you are!" said Eve, racing up and grabbing her by the arm. "Stop prancing around and get on your chariot! It's about to start!" Eve shoved her onto her chariot and she tried to stand as far away from Merchan as humanly possible. "Now, remember, try and be fox-like. A clever grin, a sly glance… Anything." Feral nodded and Eve darted off to stand with the other mentors. Spark and Chance went out first, followed by District Two and so on.

When it was their turn, Feral was temporarily blinded by the flashing lights of the cameras. When she got her bearings together she forced on the clever I-have-it-all-planned-out smile and glanced from side to side slowly. She had to hold on tightly to the railing so she wouldn't fall off. She thought it was better if she didn't wave, it didn't seem like a very fox-like thing to do.

Merchan was obviously going for a different angle. He didn't even acknowledge the crowd or put on a face. He simple stared straight ahead, holding his chin up high and trying to look as muscular as possible. It wasn't that hard for him to pull off. When they reached the end of the twenty minute chariot ride, which Feral believed to be extremely boring and pointless, they had to listen to President Snow, with his ugly white beard and snake-like eyes, give a speech on the importance of the Hunger Games and how each of the tributes were making a sacrifice for the greater good. Feral had to keep herself from roller her eyes by putting on an especially foxy smile that, according to the big screens, would be broadcasted all over Panem. _That's not nerve-racking at all…_ She muttered to herself.

When the speech was finished they passed through a set of large stone doors which closed behind them, hiding them from the crowd. They were inside the Tribute Tower, where they would be staying until the Games. As soon as the doors closed Feral let out a sigh but kept up her know-it-all grin. She still had to make the tributes think that it wasn't an act, although her face hurt.

"Now that wasn't so hard was it?" she asked Merchan daringly, pinching one of his cheeks. He stared daggers at her and she laughed nervously before gingerly hopping down from their chariot. She trotted over to the District Five chariot and smiled at a twelve year old tribute named Jess. "That was fun!" He just rolled his eyes and pushed past her. _Oh, he's one of those people,_ She thought in her head watching him go.

"You're an idiot, you know," said a voice behind her. She turned to see the female tribute fro District Five, glaring at her with her hands on her hips. Feral looked at her questioningly. "You think its all just fun and games, don't you?"

"Well, it is the Hunger _Games_," Feral said with a slight smile.

"You're not going to win, you know," Hera said, stepping down from the chariot and narrowing her eyes. "You don't stand a chance. You think you're so clever and that you have it all planned out… but once we get into the arena… you'll be nothing." And with that Hera strutted off, leaving Feral to stand there in shock. District Five wouldn't be on her list of places she was eager to visit if she won the Games.

But perhaps Hera was right. She and the Careers had been training their entire lives to be in the Hunger Games. Feral cried whenever her father killed a squirrel for their supper. There was no way she could kill a person. "Oh, don't take her seriously," said Eve, padding up and placing her arm around her in a sort of this-isn't-a-real-hug sort of way.

She led her out of the room behind Merchan and they stepped into an elevator with the other tributes. The air was silent and tense. When they reached the District Seven floor, they got off the elevator and emerged in a beautiful room. The walls were made of polished marble and the white-leather couch had soft-looking black sheep fur draped across it. A black wide screen television sat on a dark wood table and a snack table covered in delicious food resided at the back off the room. Feral who felt like she was starving immediately made her way over to it with Eve while Becken and Merchan took seats in front of the TV.

"Hey, kid," Eve whispered, plopping a pumpkin shaped tart into her mouth. "You did well. Very fox-like, very convincing."

"Thanks," Feral nodded. Suddenly, the voice from the TV caught her attention.

"Well, it does seem like we have a very strange arrange of tributes this year," said a talk show host Feral didn't recognize. "Let's take a look at that, shall we?" Feral padded over to sit down on the coach. She listened intently to the words the announcer spoke and then began to wonder why she cared so much. "First we have Bree Wenthrow and Blade Artenn from District Two. They are two normal kids. And that's the point! They are from District Two! They aren't what the districts refer to as Careers, tributes who volunteer so they can get a chance at the fame and fortune that comes with the Hunger Games. It makes you wonder if these two have a bit more up their sleeves then you'd expect."

"They have a point," Feral nodded reasonably.

"Then there's Tinn Grener," The man continued. "A _blind _tribute from District Six. No way is that kid going to last past the first day. He won't even know which direction the Cornucopia is in, he won't know where the other tributes are. See, I don't think we should even let teenagers like this in the Reaping." The crowd cheered in agreement.

"Well, that's mean," Feral muttered, crossing her arms. "They should at least give him the benefit of the doubt!"

"Don't be ridiculous," Merchan growled. Feral blinked in surprise. That was the first time he had spoken to her. Ever. "You're the clever one, Feral. You know he's going to die in the blood bath." Feral had to admit to herself that he had a point. There would be no way that Tinn would survive. It was simply impossible.

"District Eight got a bit of misfortune this year," The host said. "With a female tribute who's just a bit… off. Tiff Quirr is just a few marbles short, but that doesn't mean she isn't going to be a threat in the arena. In fact, she might be more then the rest. Finally, we have the District Seven tribute, Feral Tarani."

"Oh boy," Feral muttered.

"She seems like a normal District Seven tribute," he said. "But is she… cursed?"

"I'm sorry, _what?_" Eve asked, sitting down next to her on the coach.

"It seems Feral isn't a complete stranger to the Hunger Games," he announced. "Her sister, Ivy Tarani, was killed in the Hunger Games when she was decapitated by Hiro Firr, the other tribute from District Seven. Then, a few years ago, her boyfriend Gavering Swell was picked in the Reaping as well. He made it down to the final eight and when they went back to interview his friends and family we got this video from Feral."

"Oh no…" Feral whispered. There she was on screen, trying to talk about Gavering with tears running down her cheeks. She was only thirteen. She had been so little, so young and fragile.

"He…" Young Feral said. "He's just such a great person. He… l-loves to go on picnics and just listen to the birds in the trees… and… his favorite color is yellow, like the daisies in the spring… I… I miss him so much!" She sobbed into her hands and the video cut off, but the picture of her sobbing remained in the upper right hand corner. A picture appeared in the left-hand corner of her in the ride through the Capitol on the chariots, smiling slyly.

"You could barely tell this is the same girl!" He exclaimed. "It seems that all those people she lost to the Hunger Games may have given her an edge. She will have learned from their mistakes and be determined not to repeat them. Or, rather, it's all an act, and on the inside Feral Tarani is still just a sad, lonely little girl looking for someone to play with. So who is Feral Tarani _really_?" The computer smashed the two pictures together, ending up with a rather disturbing picture of her smiling wickedly with tears streaming from her eyes. "I suppose we'll find out tomorrow, in the interview!" And with that the TV cut off.

"Why didn't you tell me this?" Eve asked, irritated.

"I didn't realize it was important," Feral replied.

"Are you kidding?" Eve exclaimed. "Do you know how we could have used this to our advantage? We could have presented you as an angry, spiteful girl with hidden rage against the Capitol."

"Yeah," Feral said with an eyebrow raised. "Um, I don't do very well with angry."

"But now you have to keep up your current tactic," Becken said. "Otherwise you'll seem like a liar and cheater, which of course it's good if you are lying to and cheating the other tributes, but not if you're lying to the Capitol." Eve nodded.

"I guess we'll just stick with our first angle…" she muttered. "Fox-like… but perhaps… a few adjustments are needed."

"Um…" Feral said awkwardly. "What do you mean _adjustments?_"

"I mean," She continued. "Foxes can be fiery, can't they? What's that old quote…? _Foxes are wolves that send flowers?_ Yeah, that's it! You could have a little spunk under that hood of yours somewhere, couldn't you?"

"Err…" She muttered, rubbing her neck. "I guess."

"Good!" Eve beamed. "So remember, kid, spunk!" Eve stood and strode out of the room leaving Feral alone with Merchan and Becken. They sat there awkwardly until Feral couldn't stand it anymore. She rose to her feet and padded out of the room and to her own. She threw her clothes off and jumped in the shower, programming it for a warm rise only, since she had felt so sensitive since the waxing she had received from her prep team. When she stepped out she was instantly dried off by warm air. She slid on a silk shirt and matching pants and crawled into her soft, circular bed. She fell asleep the moment she closed her eyes.


	5. The Interviews P1: Rowan Tells All

**Hey Guys! Rose Hunter here! Anyway, I wanted to say that I'm going to get on with the interviews. I'm not really sure if the interviews came before or after the training, I think they came before that's why I'm doing them now. I don't have a copy of the Hunger Games, otherwise I would have checked. So don't get mad if its out of order. But if it is wrong, please tell me, though. And I really appreciate everyone whose reading this story. Also, please review and faavorite! Thanks guys :)**

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><p>Her night was haunted with visions of Gavering and Ivy being lost to the same game that she was about to play. Memories of carnage from the other Hunger Games spilled across her nightmares. She was taken away by a river of blood and washed ashore on a riverbank of human bones. Someone screamed, it might have been herself, and she woke shivering and soaked in sweat. She sat up and made her way to the shower, which was growing on her, and took a long thirty-minute soak in its gentle grip. When she got out she put on a white long-sleeve shirt, blue pants and a pair of boots. When she emerged from her room she made her way to the dinning room where breakfast was already being served to everyone else. Even Kiena was there, sitting perfectly straight and lecturing an inattentive Merchan on the importance of proper etiquette.<p>

"Hey, kid," Eve waved, her mouth stuffed with what she had learned were called marshmallows. She swallowed them all and wiped her mouth with her sleeve. Kiena looked disgusted. "We've been waiting for you."

"Why?" Feral asked, sitting down next to Merchan, although she wouldn't have if it hadn't been the last available chair.

"We wanted to ask you two," Becken continued. "If you two wanted to train together in your individual training, when the time comes?"

"Separately," Feral and Merchan both said at the same time. They glanced at each other.

"Well that settles that," Eve nodded, standing up and pushing her empty plate towards the center of the table. An Avox rushed in to take it out of the way. "Feral, when you're done, which I'm sure will be in a few seconds since you barely eat anything, come meet me in my room and we'll talk more about you're angle for the interview."

"She doesn't stay for long, does she?" Feral chuckled when she had left. "She's always leaving." Becken nodded and slightly smiled but no one said anything. Feral ate an unnaturally perfect apple and some sort of egg-shaped cake-like food that tasted slightly like pancakes, and she left to go talk to Eve. Eve's room was almost exactly like her own, just a bit larger and with a large window that let the sunlight filter in. Eve sat on the edge of her mattress, scribbling something on a notepad.

"Alright, kid," She said quietly, still writing. "I think I got this worked out. When you're in the interview be a little cleverer and a little less playful. As we get closer to the games you're gonna slowly want to get more… _intense_ I guess. But always smile, like your positive you're going to win and everyone who disagrees with you are brainless fools. You got that?"

"Yep," Feral nodded.

"Alright, then go to Kiena and have her give you instructions on…" Eve scratched her head. "I don't know… walking, I guess. And sitting up straight and smiling and all that junk. She already knows about our angle, just go to her and do what she says."

"Okay," Feral nodded. She trotted out of the room and headed to Kiena's, which was heavily decorated with bright and shiny objects. Kiena herself wore a bright blue wig and some sort of sky blue robe with red flowers decorated on the lower half.

"Show me your walk," Kiena instructed. Feral walked along a straight line and Kiena shook her head. "No, no, _no_… When you walk, you have to keep your back perfectly straight, like there's a string connected to your spin and someone is pulling it up." Kiena demonstrated. "And with your angle, you're going to want to look as sure-footed as possible. No slip-ups or anything like that. You have to know exactly what you're doing and exactly when to do it… or at least look like you do." They had to run through it almost twenty times before Feral finally got Kiena's approval. Apparently Feral wasn't very good at walking.

"Alright," Kiena said, rubbing her hands together. "Now it's onto the smiles. Eve says you're great at it, which almost never happens, so you must be. And you did great on the chariot ride so all you have to do is make the same smiles again." They ran through the smiles, Kiena often giggling or clapping at her success.

"Are we done yet?" Feral asked after the third round of her grins. "My face hurts."

"Almost," Kiena replied. Feral groaned. "Don't do that. All we have to do now is work on the actual interviewing. So sit here," Kiena said, sitting down in a chair and pointing to one sitting next to it. Feral sat down gladly. "And pretend I'm Caesar."

"Okay," Feral nodded. _This shouldn't be to hard…_ She thought.

"Feral," Kiena began. "You've been close to two people who have both competed in the Hunger Games, and both were killed, one by decapitation and one by an avalanche. Tell me, how do you think you stand on the possibility of winning the Hunger Games?"

"I think," Feral answered. "That since I've lost people to the Hunger Games before I have a better chance of winning. I mean to say, I have a few tricks up my sleeve." She put on a devilish smile at the end and Kiena nodded.

"How do you think you've changed since the video of you sobbing over Gavering?" That question hit home and Feral felt her insides quiver.

"I think…" She said slowly. "I'm smarter and stronger then I was before. His… _failure_… just makes me more determined to win." Kiena looked unsatisfied so she kept going. "Besides, I don't think there's much competition this year. Well…" I-know-something-you-don't smirk. "at least not for me, anyway."

"Perfect!" Kiena cheered. "Be sure to do that in the interview, with that smile and everything! It makes you look like you've already won! It's exactly what we're going for!" They ran though more questions for an hour, Feral occasionally saying things that got Kiena's praise and the instructions to be sure to work it into the interview.

"Feral," One of the prep team said, sticking her purple-died head in the door. "It's time to start getting ready."

"Okay!" Feral said hopping up and following them out into the hallway. With so much time trying to be a fox, more then usual that is, she was really starting to act like one. Honestly, she didn't mind too much. She actually thought it was a good thing. Once she was in the arena she would have to act like that twenty-four-seven.

While the prep team worked to get her to Beauty Base Zero, Feral thought over what she had told Kiena while they were practicing. Had the deaths of Gavering and Ivy actually made her stronger? Ivy's death had sparked a need for a hobby to distract her from her sister's death which had then in turn driven her to learn about medicines and antidotes. Gavering's death had made her mentally stronger, giving her the power to be brave and courageous, unlike the small, helpless little girl who had been crying in the video before his death. She wondered if she would ever be able to live that down. She wondered if she would ever be able to live at all.

When Ollo came in he didn't waste time studying her up and down. He immediately held out a gorgeous silk dress. It was dark green and the neck, the ends of the sleeves and the bottom were dotted with black diamonds. When she put it on, the sleeves hung from her wrists and the fabric clung to her outline in a way that made her look slender and magnificent. There was an opening in the right side of the dress that ran up to her knees, showing her right leg. With it she wore a black diamond necklace, bracelet and three inch black heels. Ollo did her hair so it was in a sort of high ponytail on the top of her head using a black butterfly-shaped clip. He added mascara to make her eye lashes look longer and some blush to hide her few blemishes.

"I look beautiful," She whispered, admiring the dress in a body-length mirror. She turned to Ollo and hesitated before embracing him. He took a moment but eventually hugged her back.

"Feral," Eve said, impatiently. "It's time to go, come on!" She led Feral out of the room and down a long hallway. The other tributes were arriving as well, and when they were all there they stood in a single file line ordered by district. Feral was amazed by how great some of them looked. "Good luck," Eve murmured before dashing off with the other mentors.

Feral swallowed nervously as they were led onto the stage. Like in the chariot ride she was temporarily blinded by the flashing lights but eventually got her bearings. She sat down in her chair in between Merchan and Tinn and folded her hands in her lap. Caesar Flickerman introduced them as that year's Hunger Games constants. Spark from District One was up first. She was in a short, off-the-shoulder red dress that puffed out when it reached her rib cage. She wore bright red lipstick and scarlet five-inch heels.

"How are you Spark?" Caesar asked in a dark green wig and matching suit.

"I'm good, Caesar, thank you," Spark giggled. It was obvious what her angle was, so much so that it made Feral want to gag. She hated girls who tried to be sexy. "I suppose I'm just here to spark up the crowd for all the other tributes." Everyone in the audience laughed. Feral thought it was a horrible joke.

"So, Spark," He continued. "What were you thinking when you volunteered for the Hunger Games?"

"Well, that's simple," She beamed. "I was thinking, 'wow, if I volunteered I would meet Caesar Flickerman'" Feral rolled her eyes. _What a kiss up_, she thought, but then realized it was a decent strategy. If Spark got Caesar to like her, he would throw her easy questions that would make the audience go gaga over her. As the rest of the interview wore on, Feral found she was right. The audience cheered, clapped and laughed at almost everything Spark said.

Chance was up next, with a seductive-yet-intimidating tactic. Spark had already broken in the crowd with her performance, but Chance still won them over plenty with his 'well, I figure I'll lose when Caesar stops changing the color of his wig every year' comment.

Then came District Two, with the girl tribute, Bree, playing the victim-of-the-Games card. She seemed to have won much sympathy when she told the crowd of her two five-year-old twin sisters and how when she told them she was going to the Hunger Games they asked if they could play too, not realizing that it was the terrifying show they had to watch every year that gave them nightmares. The male tribute, Blade, acted smart, throwing out random facts about the past Games to show how good a chance he had.

With District Three up, Portrait, a twelve-year-old girl, was absolutely adorable. She was dressed in an old-fashioned corset and light-pink dress and talked about how she had told her daddy that if she didn't come back from the Games to take care of her dolls for her. The crowd was absolutely ecstatic and Feral was positive that Portrait wouldn't have to want for anything in the arena; everything would just be delivered from lonely old people who wanted to get her home to her dolls. The male tribute, however, didn't match her personality at all. He was cold and calculating, and his responses seemed like ones you would get from a computer.

When it was District Four's turn, Rivera Troublewater came out in a silver dress that clung to her figure, bringing out her curves and letting her 'natural beauty' show, as she put it. Feral thought the term _air-headed blonde bimbo_ would describe her perfectly. She giggled like a little school girl and forgot to answer Caesar's questions on several occasions.

"So, Rowan," Caesar said when Rowan came up. He was in a slimming black suit with dark blue cuffs and tie. "You're a handsome one."

"Thanks," Rowan smiled. "I try."

"There's got to be a love interest," Caesar prompted. "Who is she?"

"Well…" Rowan said thoughtfully. "You're going to have to be more specific and tell me which one because I have this list…" More laughter from the audience.

"Come on, Dennark," Caesar pressured, calling Rowan by his last name. "We got a tip from your mentor that you have a thing for Feral." Rowan was temporarily stunned silent, but lucky for him the cameras had flicked over to Feral who put on an I'm-pretending-to-be-surprised-for-you're-sake expression. It was enough to assure people that she had been clever enough to already have known this but also told them she was at least trying to make an attempt to cover for him. When the cameras went back to Rowan he looked thoroughly embarrassed.

"Well, um…" He said rubbing his neck. Several people in the crowd were making an _awww_ noise. Some of the channels were focused back on Feral for a moment, so she decided to play a long and look embarrassed as well by avoiding looking in the direction of the audience. "It's a bit unfortunate… considering at least one of us is going to have to die next week." More sympathy from the crowd.

"Your mentor even sent in this picture…" Caesar said, holding up a small paper. The cameras zoomed in on it and the large screens above the stage revealed it to be a picture of Feral and Rowan before the chariot ride when he had brushed the strand of hair out of her face and tucked it behind her ear. The audience was hysterical at that point.

"Call it love at first sight…" Rowan smiled gently. The buzzer rang and the crowd clapped loudly.

"Well, I certainly can't wait to get Feral up here for a reaction!" He laughed. The rest of the tributes seemed to pass by without Feral even noticing. She was to busy trying to decide how she should respond to Rowan's announcement of affection towards her. When she glanced at Eve she saw she was holding up her notepad which had a heart drawn on it. Feral gave her a small nod that thankfully no one else noticed.

All too soon, Tinn was sitting down and it was Feral's turn for the interview. She stood and smiled, giving a slight wave to the audience as she made her way over to the interview chair.

"Finally, the girl we've all been waiting for!" Caesar said, shaking her hand. "So Feral, we all want to know what you're response to Rowan is. Are you in love with this District Four tribute as he is with you?" The cameras were trained on her and she paused for dramatic effect. She didn't look up from her black heels when she nodded and the crowd broke out into shouts and cheers. It took Caesar ages to finally get them to calm down. They showed Rowan, who appeared to be overflowing with joy, before going back to the interview.

"Now that we have that out of the way," Caesar laughed, running his hand through his green wig. "Let's talk family. Feral, what's yours like?"

"Well," She said slowly. "My mom died when I was seven…" She gave the audience a chance for their odd sympathy sounds. "Since then it's my dad who's been taking care of us. My oldest sister and firstborn in the family, Ivy, died in the Hunger Games. Nothing's been the same since then. My older sister, Sage, works twelve hours a day in the paper factor, as does my older brother, Tier, in the fields cutting down trees. They're always so tired. My little brother, Pinn, is smart for his age. My dad always says he and I got that from our mother. My little sister, Willow, dreams of one day being a stylist in the Hunger Games, so that she could make beautiful outfits for people like our older sister. It's six of us in all in a small, two room house on the outskirts of District Seven. It's tough at times, but it's always worth it to have so many people to love."

"Very true," Caesar nodded solemnly. "So, Feral, what kind of chance do you think you have at actually winning the Hunger Games?" Feral was prepared for this question, but she'd have to change her reply a bit.

"Well, Caesar," she said slowly, giving herself time to look like she was thinking over what to say. "At first I thought it was going to be simple. But that was before I met Rowan. If it comes down to the two of us in the arena…" Feral trailed off, acting as if the idea was unthinkable. The buzzer thankfully rang and she made her way back to her seat.


	6. The Interviews P2: Zephyr Opens Up

The rest of the interviews were pretty boring, even Merchan's who acted tough and intimidating which he completely pulled off, until Zephyr Trill from District Eight came up. He was tall and tan with wavy blonde hair and goregous dark blue eyes. He had a sort of laid back attitude and apparently was planning to use Feral's current strategy of being in love with Rowan to his advantage. Caesar practically gave him the perfect opportunity, too.

"So, Zephyr," He said. "Got any comments on the romance between Rowan and Feral? What do you think about it?"

"Well," He said slowly. "Honestly… Let's just say that Rowan isn't the only one with a crush on her." The crowd went nuts. The camera flicked over to Feral who was too sincerely stunned to look anything except exactly that.

"Shame we can't get Feral back up here," Caesar sighed. "That sure would be interesting." The rest of Zephyr's interview went by normally, until the very end when he stood up to leave. Instead of going back to his seat he walked over to Feral first, taking her hand, kissing her knuckles and giving her an award-winning smile before going back to his seat. It made the audience crazy and it took Caesar Flickerman ages before he got the audience to calm down again so the next tribute could go for their interview. In comparison, everyone else seemed especially dull and the crowd agreed with their bored expressions and halfhearted applauses. After everything was over Caesar bid them all goodnight and told them to cast their votes online on whom they liked better, Rowan or Zephyr. Once they were offstage and back in the hallway, Feral was cornered by her lover from District Eight.

"Do I get a response?" Zephyr grinned, his dark blue eyes inches from her own. _Did he mean it?_ She asked herself in her mind. She had to admit he was handsome but she didn't like him like that. _It's all a game…_ she reminded herself, realizing the other tributes were listening. Rowan, especially, looked trained on the conversation, like he suspected that she loved both of them and was jealous. _I might as well play…_ Feral looked deep into Zephyr's eyes for a moment before tearing hers away, like it pained her.

"I…" She whispered. "I don't… I don't know…"

"It's because of him, isn't it?" He asked, his voice slightly shaking. "You love him, not me."

"No!" She said loudly then lowering her voice. "I don't know…" Zephyr studied her face for a few seconds before Feral ran off, trying to make it seem like she was so emotionally confused that she was about to cry. She took the long way to get back to her own personal dressing room, where Ollo was waiting to help her undo her hair and take back the expensive dress.

She arrived back at the Tribute Tower late, so she wouldn't have to ride in the elevator with the others. It would make them wonder where she was, adding an air of mystery to the camera-loved side of herself. When she reached the level for the District Seven tributes, she was instantly tackled by Eve.

"Oh, kid, you did great!" Eve laughed. "The sponsors are practically lining up already! Tons of people have already gone online to the poll and voted for which of your little boy toys they like better!"

"Who's winning?" She asked curiously.

"Rowan, last time I checked," Eve answered. "But just by a few votes. You know how great this is? You played the girl-torn-between-two-lovers so well. You know, kid, you've almost impressed me."

"Really?" Feral asked surprised. "But, I totally forgot to act all… foxy."

"I did say almost right? But then again, who cares?" Eve shrugged, surprising her. "We've got something better… a love triangle! Now, go take a shower, I need a little while to think about our new approach." So Feral went and took a shower, programming it to be warm but strong so that it would wash away all the makeup and events of the night. While washing her hair, she realized how absolutely ridiculous her supposed love really was. They were going to try to kill her in four days. It was silly and pointless.

When she got out she put on a pair of white pajamas and headed into the living room. Eve sat in front of the TV watching it intently. The same man who had first shown the video of Feral crying was talking about her again.

"Last night I showed you the video of Feral when she was emotionally unbalanced," He said. Feral, taking offense, sat down on one of the coaches. "It seems that she's that way again, as caught by our hidden cameras back stage after the interviews with Caesar Flickerman." They showed a video of Feral talking to Zephyr after the show, showing occasion shots of Rowan looking like he was about to walk over there and punch Zephyr in the face. It ended with Feral darting off, looking like she was going to cry. "Feral's putting on quit a show! Everyone thinks this girl is so clever, but if she is, why can't she make up her mind about who she has a crush on? And who cares anyway? She's just going to have to kill them in a few days anyway!"

"He has a point about that…" Feral murmured. The show cut off, leaving Eve and Feral in silence for a few seconds while they both thought over the recent attack on her character.

"Anyway," Eve said finally, brushing it off. "I've been thinking about our strategy, short-stuff, and I think I know how you should play it. Be a little quieter, more playful and gentle, and a little less I'm-plotting-your-death-and-enjoying-every-minute-of-it-y. At least until you get in the arena. Once you're there you should loose all playfulness, unless…"

"Unless what?" She asked, confused.

"I was thinking," Eve continued. "You could pick one of your boy toys to be an ally. It gives you a better chance of survival and wins sponsors."

"Yeah, but…" She said slowly. "Which one?"

"Whichever one wins the polls," She replied. She pulled out a laptop and typed in a few things before nodding to herself. "And right now it's Zephyr, but not by much."

"Eve…" Feral said tentatively. "You saw the video of Zephyr talking to me. Do you think he was actually being serious? And what about Rowan? Those were pretty realistic reactions."

"Probably not, kid," She shook her head. "You don't fall in love with people who are going to try to kill you. It's just not natural. Besides, it's all just a game; they are just playing along and trying to win sponsors. You're smart, kid. You get that, right?" Feral nodded. "Good! Well, tomorrow's the first day of training. When you're in there try and spend equal amounts of time with each of your boy toys, okay?"

"Okay," Feral nodded. She stood. "Night, Eve." She made her way to her room and curled up under the covers, wishing that she'd never have to come out.


	7. Kevin Gets Shot Repeatedly

"And remember," said Atala. "You should try and learn as many new things as possible to give yourself a good chance of winning. It's better to be okay at a lot of different things then to be great at only one thing." And with that the group of tributes broke up, all going to different areas in the training center. Eve had told her the same thing earlier that morning, to try things that she hadn't tried before. So, Feral made her way over to the archery area and listened intently as the instructor told her how to hold the bow and how to aim. He let her try it out on a shooting range, which disturbingly had human-shaped targets at the end. At first she missed completely, only hitting the wall with an arrow. On the second attempt she hit the target, who she decided to call Kevin, in the arm, but just barely. On the third, however, she hit Kevin precisely in the heart. She spent two more hours in the archery area, perfecting her newly-found skills. It seemed she had a gift for hitting the targets, and the instructor said he was impressed. Other tributes came and left but Feral barely noticed, lost in her world of archery.

When she decided to finally leave, she made her way over the spear throwing. Zephyr was there, and she knew she needed to talk to him. She listened to the instructor telling her how important it was to balance the spear carefully before throwing it, otherwise she'd miss. He warned her that people who were good at archery often weren't the best at spear throwing, but she shrugged it off. She headed over to the lane beside were Zephyr was and gave it a shot. She missed the Spear Station version of Kevin by several feet, leaving a hole in the wall instead. She sighed and bounced over to it to pull it out so she could have another go. As she went to go get hers, a spear lodged itself exactly in the heart of the dummy to her right. Zephyr appeared next to her to retrieve it.

"You're good at that!" She smiled, pulling her own loose from the wall. He smiled at her.

"You were amazing at archery," He commented. "I've never seen anyone hit that many bull's eyes in a row like that before." He took a step closer. "It was really spectacular." Feral blushed and glanced up into his dark blue eyes. For some reason, she got the feeling that he wasn't kidding. Feral tore her eyes away and padded back. She waited until Zephyr was out of the danger zone before having another go, landing even farther away from Kevin then the first time.

That was how it went until the last time when she actually had to jump to get it loose from the wall. She finally gave up on spear throwing and went over to Camouflage where Jenn and Tinn were. Tinn, of course, couldn't see, so his attempts at it were pointless. Feral wasn't much better, getting her arm to look more like mud then tree bark. Jenn, however, got her arm to practically disappear, making Feral's mouth drop open. She went over to weight lifting, although she wasn't sure why considering she knew from the start that she'd be horrible at it.

She ended up in Snares, trying to master a complicated trap that would leave a human enemy hanging upside-down by one foot. She was getting frustrated and was about to give up to go somewhere else, when she felt someone's presence behind her and two arms that weren't her own started working on the knot for her. She looked over her shoulder to see Rowan behind her. He smiled and boldly kissed her on the cheek, making her blush.

"Let me give it a try," He smiled. She didn't argue, letting him take over. In several minutes he had completed it. Feral wasn't surprised when he finished it so quickly. He was from District Four, after all, and had probably been making nets to catch fish his whole life.

"So what's it like in District Four?" she asked, trying the knot on her our again.

"Well," he said thoughtfully. "The sun is always bright and shining. The only trees we really have there are palm trees and there isn't much dirt, just sand. There's always a breeze and the air constantly smells like salt water. It's so… calm… there. Not like here in the Capitol where everything is always fast-paced and exciting."

"It sounds beautiful," she said, finally completing the knot on her own. She gave a small wave to Rowan before trotting over to swords. She was a little disturbed while in the swords center by Hera's sword skills as she sliced and stabbed everything that she was instructed to with excellent speed and accuracy. Feral, meanwhile, was told she was _unsatisfactory_, having issues balancing the long blade and staying balanced herself while wielding it.

She glanced over nervously at the Gauntlet. The Gauntlet was a terrifying obstacle course in which the tributes had to leap from platform to platform while dodging padded clubs that the trainers were swinging at them. The goal was to make it to the end in the fastest time possible. In the Training Center, it was the ultimate test of speed and agility. Feral didn't feel that she was quite ready for it.

Rivera, however, was taking on the Gauntlet like a pro. She jumped from platform to platform like she had been doing it her whole life, and dodged the padded clubs like they were cotton balls. At one point she flipped over one and landed unscathed in a neat crouch and kept on going. Feral overheard a trainer telling her that she had just beaten the all-time high score.

She decided to make her way over to Plants which, of course, she found extremely easy. She did, however, find a few plants that she hadn't known, like several poisonous plants and a few eatable ones as well. There was a certain one she hadn't heard of from a marsh that was said to be very rare called Black Hemm that had two kinds of berries, one being very nutritious the other being fatally poisonous. There was also a type of desert plant known as Crawling Gypsy that could very efficiently kill bacteria and fight off infections if the vines were broken and the juice was rubbed on a wound.

When it was finally time to leave, Feral made sure to say goodbye to both Rowan and Zephyr before going with Merchan to meet Eve and Becken. Merchan was coated in sweat but didn't look nearly as tired as Feral felt.

"How'd it go?" Becken asked, smiling slightly.

"It went great!" Feral beamed before Merchan could reply. "Well, I really sucked up spear throwing and sword fighting but you should have seen me with a bow and arrows! And it was my first time, too! I hit Kevin—the creepy human-shaped target—almost every time!" Eve laughed at how childish Feral must have looked, being so excited and all.

"Pretty good," Merchan replied, not saying anything else. Feral wondered if she had said too much, revealing to Merchan her best weapon plus the ones she couldn't use very well. They headed back to the District Seven floor and Feral took an hour long shower, spending most of the time sitting on the floor and wondering who would win the poll, Rowan or Zephyr. She was so much more compatible with Rowan, and secretly hoped he was the one who won. She began to think that she might actually like him that way, but she told herself that she couldn't because he was going to be playing against her in the Hunger Games. Once they began, all bonds would be forgotten. _Remember what Eve said_, she reminded herself. '_You don't fall in love with people who are going to try to kill you. It's just not natural.'_

When she got out of the shower she was heading down to the living room when a hand reached out from behind one of the doors and pulled her into the room. It was Eve, who held a laptop.

"Um, was pulling me in here like that really necessary?" Feral asked, annoyed.

"It got your attention," she shrugged. "I wanted to talk to you because I forgot to tell you something. You haven't gone on the ropes course yet, right?" Feral shook her head. "Good. Save that for the private session."

"What about the Gauntlet?" Feral asked.

"You should probably try that out with everyone else," she said after a minute of thought. "And if you're really good at it then give it a whirl during the private session, too. Oh! Right now Zephyr's winning the polls again, but while you were in training today it was Rowan."

"Why won't it just stay one person?" Feral asked, frustrated.

"The Capitol is full of stupid, fickle people," Eve said plainly. "And they are allowed to vote as many times as they want to. There are probably some of them who spent hours just sitting at the computer and voting over and over again on who they like better."

"That's stupid," Feral grumbled. Eve laughed and agreed with her before the two of them headed into the dinning room to eat dinner. Everyone was there, even Kiena who was absent so frequently. Feral, wasn't to happy about that though, since all she did was complain about her allergies to feathers and nagged them about sitting up straight and how important it was to keep their hair out of their eyes. No one said much, except for Kiena of course. Feral dove into an extra-rare stake with a perfect baked potato on the side. By the time she was finished she felt like she was about to explode and Eve congratulated her on actually eating as much food as a human being would. She didn't have any room for desert, so she just went straight to bed and feel into a deep, dreamless sleep.


	8. Realization

The next day she and Merchan were some of the first tributes to arrive at the Training Center, so Feral used the spare time to go back over to the archery area. She picked up the same bow and arrows she had used the day before and had at it. It took her a few shots to warm up and get her aim back, but she was quickly hitting bull's eye after bull's eye.

The instructor started up a machine that shot fake birds into the air. Feral shot one after another until at one point she hit five in one launch. The few tributes in the Training Center, including Rowan and Zephyr, had all been watching. When she accomplished that feat, Rowan and Zephyr cheered, while the rest just gaped at her until their brains stared working again and they quickly looked away with pretty pissed-off expressions.

Feral trotted away merrily and went over to the fire-building station. It took her a few minutes to get a fire going with flint, but almost no time at all to start a fire with twigs. She had done it almost a million times before on cold days in the woods while she took breaks from searching for herbs. The instructor said she was impressed.

She padded over to camouflage to say good morning to Jenn, who had turned her left leg into the forest floor. Bree, the female tribute from District Two who was also at that area, said she thought it was impressive. Feral just thought it was creepy.

Feral saw Zephyr going to wrestling and bounced over there as well. They arrived at the same time and held hands as the instructor taught them about how useful wrestling skills would be in the arena. Zephyr got a try first, pinning the instructor after about four minutes. Feral was up next, and her small, agile body was hard for the instructor to get a hold of. She carefully dodged just out of his reached and preformed several dainty kicks back at him. At one point she leapt into the air and used his shoulders to propel herself over him. When she landed, she swung her foot around, knocking him to the ground. He laughed and she helped him up.

She parted ways with Zephyr, instead heading over to the edible insects station by herself. The instructor looked delighted and she assumed he didn't get many visitors. He had her sample a few bugs and worms, which she didn't find very gross since she lived by the forest where bugs were everywhere. He told her which ones would have killed her if they hadn't removed the poisons first. He gave her a pamphlet to look through, which she did for about twenty minutes until they were called for lunch. Feral would certainly remember that station.

At lunch she sat with Jenn and Tinn, who she was quickly becoming friends with. Rowan and Zephyr both ate with them as well, sitting on either side of Feral, which was very weird for her since they were both determined to talk to her but also to completely ignore each other.

"Aren't you hungry?" Jenn asked, noticing Feral had only eaten a piece of blueberry bread. She had always loved blueberries. When they were in season she and Willow would go out into the forest and get baskets of them.

"I just came from edible insects," Feral explained with a grin. Everyone laughed, even Tinn who always looked so jumpy and nervous. Jenn, who had an apatite as big as Eve's even though she was average sized, finally convinced her to have another piece.

The tributes were mostly spread out, and Feral's group was one of the only clumps of people. The Careers—Spark, Chance, Teck, Rivera and Hera—all sat together in a large, intimidating clique. Separately they were nerve-racking, together they were mortifying. They talked like they were old friends who had known each other their whole lives. Feral knew that her own group wouldn't be like that. Once the Games began there would be no alliance among them like there would be for the Careers.

She sighed as they were dismissed back to the stations. She hung back and noticed where Merchan was. He was at the axe station. "What's wrong?" Zephyr asked, walking up beside her. He followed her gaze to see what she was staring so intensely at.

"My sister was decapitated in her Hunger Games," She whispered. "By the other District Seven tribute. What if the same death waits for me, Zephyr? My family… they couldn't go on after loosing _two_ children to the Games."

"They won't," Zephyr said, so determined that it made her blink. "I won't let that happen." He walked off, not waiting for Feral to respond. She was too stunned to move for several seconds and in that time Rivera had stalked up behind her.

"Hello Feral," She hissed in her ear, making her jump. She smiled and sighed when she realized who it was, trying to pretend she thought all the tributes were friends and the whole world was filled with sunshine and rainbows. "You can't win you know."

"What do you mean?" She asked, tilting her head like she didn't understand. Of course, she understood perfectly well that Rivera was threatening her.

"I may have let you have Rowan," She said, making Feral blink in surprise. _She loves Rowan…_ she whispered in her mind. _Oh man, when we get into the arena she's goanna kill me. _"But I'm not going to let you win the Games, seven scum. The victor's crown is going to be mine and there's nothing you can do about it."

"Don't be so sure…" Feral said, the I-know-something-you-don't smirk making reappearance. She bounded off, heading over to the hammock making station where Rowan was. His hands moved so quickly that Feral could barely follow them with her eyes. She wasn't sure how long she watched, but she stayed until he was done. The hammock was intricate and strong.

"Like it?" he asked, holding it towards her.

"Wow…" she breathed, feeling the rope. "That's amazing." He chuckled and placed the hammock back on the station table before heading off to another station. Feral gave the hammock making a try, but before she knew it had ended up with a huge knot instead. It took were several minutes to get her hands unstuck from it. She gave up and went over to the slingshot station. She wasn't too bad, but she wasn't comfortable with it like she was with a bow.

She tried the Knives Station but the way the instructor explained it made her feel sick. She explained how it was important to hit person over their arteries with a knife so they would bleed out. Feral stayed long enough to show her she understood before heading back to archery for a few minutes to get the mental images from the Knives Station out of her head.

She lost track of time and ended up staying there until there wasn't much more then half an hour left on the clock. She did know what she wanted to do, though. She headed over to the Gauntlet and watched from the sidelines as Rivera passed it with flying colors.

"Wanna give it a go?" A pink-haired instructor asked. Feral hesitated but nodded her head. This caught Rivera's attention and she snarled as Feral took the steps to the beginning of the course. "Okay, it's simple. Just try and make it to the end in a short amount of time, while the other instructors try and hit you with padded clubs. Got it?"

"Yeah, I guess…" Feral nodded. Rowan and Zephyr had joined Rivera on the sidelines to watch. She glanced over and the two of them smiled encouragingly while Rivera snickered.

"Ready…" The instructor said slowly. "Set… Go!" Feral ran the first few steps before leaping gingerly up onto the first platform. She leapt up two more in a row with ease and began to wonder why she had waited so long before trying it out.

She remembered right about when the first padded club was swung at her feet. She leapt into the air and it barely missing knocking her to the ground. She kept going and had to flatten herself to the platform the next time it came around. Out of its range, she leapt easily over four more platforms until she reached the highest point. All she had to do now was make it back to bottom.

The second club came at her and she found herself flipping over and landing neatly on the next platform, just like she had seen Rivera do. She kept going and was out of range of the club before it could come back around. She glanced at Rivera, who looked thoroughly enraged. The next clubs soared at her but she ducked swiftly under it.

She supposed her agility had come from all those days she had spent racing throw the forest. She had had to jump over stumps and fallen logs and duck under low hanging branches. Those skills were what the Gauntlet was all about and she had been homing them since she was a small child.

The club came back at her and it missed her face by only inches. She leapt off the final platform and over the finish line. Zephyr and Rowan cheered. "How'd I do?" She panted to the instructor.

"How'd you do?" The instructor repeated with a chuckle. "You almost beat the high score!"

"Almost," Rivera whispered in her ear, strutting by and flicking her blonde hair in Feral's face. Feral rolled her eyes, knowing that Rivera might have the Gauntlet in the palm of her hand, but in the arena if it came down to climbing then Feral would be victor.

"That was great!" Rowan said appearing beside her.

"You think so?" she blushed, trying to act modest.

"I know so," he smiled. It was time to go, so Feral bid goodbye to Rowan and Zephyr and went to meet up with Eve. On her way she passed Tinn, who had to be guided by Jenn to get back to his mentor. Feral pitied him. Surely he knew that he was going to die. There was no possible way he could win the Hunger Games. She wondered how he copped with it and knew it was the same as how everyone else copped with it. They thought they were all going to die as well.

The weight of their predicament finally hit Feral right in the face, making her stumble. She had to lean on a nearby table for support for several seconds while she caught her breath. Her name was Feral Tarani. She was a tribute in the Hunger Games. She was going to die.

"Are you alright, kid?" Eve asked when Feral finally joined them. "You look like you're about to throw up."

"I'm fine," Feral dismissed. "I almost beat the high score on the Gauntlet." Eve smiled and led her into the elevator with the other tributes. Feral straightened up as they started to ascend. Rowan waved to her as he got off on the District Four level, while Rivera glared. Zephyr took her hand and kissed her knuckles before he got out on the District Eight floor.

When they finally got out on the District Seven floor, Feral didn't wait. She bounced out of the elevator and merrily waved to the other tributes before trotting off to the right down the hallway. Once she was out of sight all her foxiness faded, replaced by full-on grief. She went straight to the shower where she stayed for several hours, sobbing quietly into her hands. She was going to die and once again her family would be left all alone.

When she got out of the shower she had run out of tears. She didn't boring putting any pajamas on; she just crawled under the covers of her bed in her underwear. She pulled the sheets up over her head and wished that she never had to come out from under there. It was so warm and cozy. _Like a fox den…_ she said to herself as she drifted off the sleep.


	9. Cruel Eyes

Everything screamed in her dreams that night. She awoke, as usual, slicked with sweat and breathing hard. She sat up and looked at her clock. She was awake about an hour earlier then she normally woke up, and she normally woke up an hour earlier then everyone else. She doubted that she could get back to sleep after the nightmares, but she decided to try anyway. She lay there for half an hour, waiting for sleep to visit her again.

When it didn't she stood and stretched. Trudging over to her closet she pulled out the uniform that tributes were to wear to the Training Center. She pulled it on and went into the bathroom to wash her face and brush her teeth. After that, she sat on her bed for a few minutes trying to decide what gruesome death lurked in the shadows of her future.

Feral finally tip-toed into the living room and flicked on the TV, turning the volume on as low as it would go but so she could still hear it so she wouldn't wake anyone else. An early morning Capitol news show was talking about the expected drop in the price of jewelry in the coming months. It bored her and she was about to change the channel when they changed the topic to the upcoming Hunger Games. "And in later news," A woman with blue hair and matching eyes said. "The upcoming Hunger Games are expected to be very interesting, with an oddball group of tributes. The male tribute from District Six, Tinn Grener, is completely blind. Most people say he doesn't have a chance, but some Hunger Games experts are saying that he may win more sponsors _because_ he's blind."

"Speaking of odd tributes," Her male co-anchor said. "Everyone has heard about the tribute named Feral. She is the most popular of all the tributes this year, even though she is all the way from District Seven. This is due to several reasons. The first is that she had an older sister and a boyfriend who _both_ died in previous Hunger Games. The second is that she is in a love triangle with the male tribute from District Four, Rowan Dennark, and the male tribute from District Eight, Zephyr Trill. When our reporters asked the Gamemakers who Feral was talking to in the Training Center, they said they had kept an eye on her and that she was talking to both Rowan and Zephyr equally and didn't seem to favor one over the other. Now, personally I think that it's all an act and she doesn't really like either of them. And if she does, she is sending mixed signals and doesn't realize it."

"What I don't get," the woman said. "Is why she would even bother get to know either of them in the first place? They are all going to be in the Hunger Games in a few days anyway, why they would even talk to each other, I don't understand, if only one of them is going to survive the Hunger Games, anyway?"

"That a good point, Hii," The man nodded. "Now onto Yon Ginn for weather." As Yon began to talk about what a sunny day they were going to have, Feral got bored and flipped the TV off. She headed into the dinning room, where a breakfast of scrambled eggs, buttered toast and orange juice awaited her. Ollo was already there, sipping his juice silently. Feral finished eating before anyone else showed up, and she waited in her room until it was time to leave to go to the Training Center.

When she got there she sighed. There were only a few stations left for her to go to. She headed over to Shelters where a female instructor with bright red hair and a lot of body piercings explained to her what kind of things to look for in a shelter, like a waterproof ceiling and a warm, dry inside. She gave Feral a few common objects and instructed her to make a miniature shelter. She did so successfully after several failed attempts.

Heading over to the hand-to-hand combat station, she listened as the instructor showed her what to do when she was in a tight situation, and some less-known ways to dodge and block punches and kicks. She only found it moderately interesting and left after half an hour in the station. Besides, she didn't plan on letting the other tributes close enough for her to need to use one of those moves, anyway.

She went to the tridents station and tried her hand at throwing them but was just as bad at throwing them as she was with spears, which was horrible. She stayed there for almost an hour, trying to get it right, but it seemed that the more she practiced the worse she got.

She bounced over to the Gauntlet, where she attempted again to beat Rivera's high score but only got a few seconds closer to it. She repeated it but got the same score that she had gotten the first run. On her third lap of the day she got her lowest time yet, missing her original by three seconds.

At that point the lunch bell rang out and Feral trotted over to sit in her usual seat in between Rowan and Zephyr. They ate in silence, everyone aware that it would be the last lunch they would eat together before they became enemies. No one said anything the entire time, even the Careers. The room was quiet. Feral didn't eat much, just a chunk of cheese and a few meatballs that she playfully snatched from Zephyr.

When lunch was over Feral knew what she wanted to do. She spent the last hours in the archery station, perfecting her skills. For the last hour she shot down the fake birds and the other tributes watched as she hit everything that went into the air. By the time the bell rang to signal that it was time to leave, she hit her mark every time and all twenty-three tributes had gathered to watch her. She didn't really even notice they were there until she had to stop so she could leave to meet up with Eve.

When they got to the District Seven floor and the elevator door closed behind them, Eve looked at her excitedly. Feral blinked in confusion, not sure why Eve looked so ecstatic.

"What?" Feral asked, confused.

"The poll results are in!" she said.

"Who won?" Feral asked.

"I don't know," Eve replied. "I promised myself I wouldn't check until you got back from the Training Center."

"Well, check!" Feral prompted. Eve darted into the living room where she had left her laptop and started typing furiously. Feral twirled her hair nervously in her fingers. She wanted desperately to know who had won. Eve finally looked up from the computer, a blank expression on her face. "Well, who won?"

"Rowan," She said finally. Feral felt relieved that she didn't have to wait anymore to find out the results, but she also felt something else… disappointment? She was actually sad that Rowan had won. She wasn't sure why, though, but it probably had something to do with the fact that they had to pretend to be in love with someone and then fight them to the death all so the Capitol citizens could entertain themselves.

It truly was a cruel fate.


	10. The Private Sessions

Feral waited with the other tributes outside the Training Center. She watched the time slowly ticked away on the clock as they waited for their turn in the private session. The Game Makers watched them while they trained with the other tributes, yes, but their final score depended mostly on how they preformed in their private session. Each one could last from twenty minutes to an hour long.

Merchan, who sat on her right, looked totally calm as he waited for his private session, as did the Careers. Jenn sat there nervously twiddling her thumbs and Tinn tapped his foot on the cement floor. Rowan ran his hands through his beautiful black hair. Zephyr, whose shoulder Feral was leaning her head on, whispered poems in her ear as they sat anxiously.

When Merchan finally stood up, he strode courageously into the Training Center and Feral watched as the doors closed behind him. She swallowed nervously and buried her face in Zephyr's shirt. She felt weird, being with him like that when she was supposed to be with Rowan. But there was a bond between them, she wasn't sure if it was just friendship or more then that, and he was a comfort to her, one that she wouldn't be able to have for much longer. The next day, they would be sent into the arena and would be enemies.

Finally, it was her turn. She rose to her feet and slowly made her way to the door. She cast one last glance at Zephyr before pushing the doors open and stepping into the Training Center. It looked the same as it always did, except it was empty of its tributes. Most of the instructors were gone, except the ones that manned the Gauntlet course. She headed there first, dashing from start to finish on the obstacle course in record time, just one second shorter then the high score that Rivera held.

She glanced at the Game Makers. They scribbled things madly on their notepads and sipped from wine glasses. Feral felt back for District Twelve; by the time it was their turn the Game Makers would be drunk and utterly tired of watching tributes try to show off for them.

She made her way over to archery and picked up her favorite bow and quiver filled with arrows. She took aim and hit the bull's eye on the first try. After hitting eight more in a row she glanced at the Game Makers again. They wore unreadable masks, which got on her nerves.

Suddenly she had an idea. She had promised Eve that she would go on the ropes course and climb as well. She slung the arrow over her shoulder and darted over to the ropes course. She had caught the attention of the Game Makers and all eyes were on her. Using climbing skills that she had been homing since she was little, Feral had reached the top of the ropes course in less than thirty seconds. By the scribbling the Game Makers were doing it had to be impressive. Her next move was dangerous by itself, but she was determined. Slipping her legs through the ropes and letting go with her arms, Feral hung upside-down and pulled an arrow out of the quiver which she had set on the top of the ropes. Taking careful aim and shooting from a distance she had never even attempted to shoot from before, Feral was risking a lot. She let the arrow fly. She closed her eyes and slowly opened them. She was amazed when she saw that her arrow had lodged itself right on the target. She hung herself right-side-up again and slung the quiver back over her shoulder with one hand. She climbed down from the ropes course and was trying to think of something else impressive to do when one of the Game Makers spoke.

"You are dismissed," He said plainly. No _you did great_; no _you got a certain number of points_, just a dismissal. Feral hated having to wait; it made her anxious and jumpy. But she simply nodded, a foxy smile alight on her face, and trotted out of the room. She headed up to the District Seven floor alone and didn't meet up with Eve until she got off the elevator.

"How'd you do?" she asked. Feral thought for a second.

"I did alright," she nodded, patting Eve on the shoulder. She didn't want to say what she really thought, which was that she did amazing, in case the Game Makers gave her a really low score for some reason. The rest of the day dragged by excruciatingly slowly, making Feral want to bang her head on a table. She wanted desperately to know what her score was, and what the other tributes' scores were.

She took an early shower so that she could watch the show where they announced the scores. She was in love with the showers she got in the Capitol and dreaded having to go back home if she won and only be able to take baths, where if you wanted hot water you had to boil it yourself. She loved having the warm water flowing over her skin, like it could wash away all her troubles. But not even the Capitol showers could wash away the Hunger Games.

When she got out she was just in time to see the show. Caesar Flickerman sat at a desk in his dark green wig, grinning wildly. "Welcome, ladies and gentleman," He said. "To the announcing of the tribute scores! Now earlier today the tributes all went into their private sessions in the Training Center to show the Game Makers what they can do. Now is the time that we all find out!"

A picture of Chance came up first and after a brief description of him from Caesar a number came up under his photo… _nine._ Spark's picture appeared with the number _nine_ written down below it as well. The girl from District Two got a _six_ while the boy got a _five_. Portrait, the twelve-year-old girl from District Three, got a _six_ while her partner, Teck, got a _ten_ that made Feral twirl her hair ferociously.

Up came District Four. River scored a _nine_, making Feral's anxiety grew for some reason. Rowan scored an _eight_, and Caesar described him as being "attractive and romantic to a T". Hera got a _ten_ and Feral began to wonder if the high scores would ever end. But they did of course, with the District Five male tribute scoring a _four_. Jenn scored a _seven_, and Feral wondered what she had done to get it.

"Pour Tinn," She breathed when his picture came up with a _zero_ beneath it. Without anyone to guide him, he couldn't see anywhere, so there had been nothing he could do. Even if he had someone to show him where to go he couldn't do anything in the Training Center, it all required vision.

Finally it was Feral's turn and she almost shook in nervousness as her picture slowly appeared on the screen. Everyone leaned forward in anticipation, desperately wanting to know what she had earned. A number slowly appeared on the screen and Feral had to rub her eyes to make sure she was reading it right…

_Eleven_

Her mouth dropped open and she blinked repeatedly. Even Caesar sounded surprised when he read the number off. Everyone loved the Fox Tribute, as Caesar called her, because of her slyness and the tribute love triangle. No one had actually expected her to do that good, certainly not better then the Careers.

The rest of the tributes seemed to come and fade away without Feral really noticing, although she heard and remembered the scores. Merchan got a _nine_ that Feral had been expecting. The female tribute from District Eight got a _three_, and Zephyr got a _seven_. From Nine, Ari got a _seven_ and Angelin got an _eight_. The girl from Ten got a _seven_ and the boy got an _eight_. The team from Eleven got a _five_ and a _six_. The girl from District Twelve got a _six_ while the boy got a _seven_.

When the show flicked off all went silent. No one really said anything; instead they all just stared at a blank screen. Feral figured it would flick back to life any minute and say they had made a mistake with the scores that she hadn't gotten the highest score of that year's Hunger Games.

But it never did.

Instead she sat there for almost an hour, staring at the TV and mulling things over. The Game Makers thought she had the best chance of winning, but that couldn't have been right. In the Training Center it was easy to shoot dummies. In the real Games those dummies would be the other tributes and she couldn't kill a person. It was against her nature.


	11. The Arrival

She stood on top of the roof, waiting for the hovercraft to come and pick her up so she could be taken away to the Hunger Games. Her entire team and Merchan stood with her. Feral still hated waiting. She tapped her foot on the ground and occasionally paced in a circle. Ollo and Eve would be going with them, but not Kiena or the prep team.

"Thank you, Kiena," Feral said. "For taking care of us here in the Capitol It's a really beautiful place."

"You are welcome," She nodded solemnly. Feral walked over to the prep team and thanked them for making her so beautiful when she needed them to. They still didn't say much, just nodded.

Tears were streaming down Feral's cheeks when the hovercraft appeared above them. She stepped onto a rope ladder and was instantly frozen. She almost panicked, not being able to move any muscle in her body. The ladders lifted them up into the hovercraft and Feral wasn't released until after a woman had injected the tracker into her arm.

When she could finally step off the ladder, she did so quickly. The other tributes waited in two rows of chairs that faced each other. Feral sat in one between Rowan and Zephyr, quietly twiddling her thumbs.

She hoped and prayed that there would be a bow and arrows in the arena. It would be her only chance. Eve hadn't said anything special about what to do at the cornucopia. When Feral had asked, she had just said "go with your gut" which Feral didn't find very helpful. If she could get to the cornucopia first and she could get her hands on a bow and a full quiver, then she had a chance of making it out of there alive.

She felt the eyes of the other tributes every once in a while, but when she looked over at them their gazes quickly flicked away. She knew why they were looking at her. She was the fox tribute who had scored an _eleven_. It was the highest among them.

The windows slowly darkened until nothing could be seen out of them. They were approaching the arena. The hovercraft stopped moving and they were all given blindfolds and we lowered down by the ladder. Feral wasn't able to move, but she knew that if she could she would be desperately clinging to the ladder. It was terrifying.

Finally, she could move again. She slowly extended her right foot and found the ground. She stepped off and Eve's voice sounded in the background. "You can take the blindfold off." Feral removed it from her face. They were in a small, quiet room with just Eve and Ollo, who sat in a chair next to a table.

"What do you want me to do about Rowan and Zephyr?" she blurted immediately. Eve thought for a moment.

"Do not go to them," she said slowly. "Their mentor's might have told them to give up the love-sick act the second they step foot in the arena. If they want to be an ally, they will go to you."

"Okay," Feral nodded after a couple minutes of thought. Ollo stood, holding something in his hand, and walked up to her. When she reached it, he opened his fist to reveal her mother's necklace. She had completely forgotten about it! She quickly reached out for it and secured the silver chain around her neck. "Thank you."

Ollo held out what Feral knew had to be that year's outfit for the tributes. She slid it on and looked at herself in a mirror. It was a pair of black and grey pants and a matching shirt that clung to her figure. It felt smooth and reminded her of the fabric Rowan had once described to her that was used in District Four to make bathing suits, except it was thick and much stronger-seeming then what he had said. Around her waist was a grey belt that she had to put on the smallest loop because her figure was so petite for her age. She slid on grey boots that she laced on over the pants.

Something overhead beeped and Eve stepped forward. "It's time," she said. Feral gave her one last huge. As she stepped onto the circle, her body was shaking horribly, her entire being looked like it was vibrating. As the glass tube fell down around her, she glanced back to look for Eve and Ollo, but they were already gone.


	12. Welcome to the Arena

The arena was a swamp. They were surrounded by mushy dirt and tiny ponds that dotted the landscape. Towering trees from ancient times stood over them, with Spanish moss draped over their limbs. The entire arena seemed alive, animals darting everywhere, plants growing in all possible locations.

At first the tributes couldn't find the cornucopia. It wasn't in the middle of them like it usually was, and a quick look around told them it wasn't on the ground. Feral was the first one to look up. The cornucopia was suspended by a rope net high in the treetops. Looking around, the nearest tree that supported it was closer to Tinn then her, but it didn't matter. He wouldn't be able to see anything; she could easily get there before anyone else.

She noticed how the Game Makers had designed it so that you couldn't know what was in the cornucopia until you were up in the trees with it. She had no way to know if there would be a bow and arrows up there. Not only that, but once she was up there, she would have to fight her way down.

"Five…" said the voice. "Four… Three… Two… One…" The cannon fired, and the arena burst to life. When it sounded, Feral's feet were pointed straight at the tree. She burst out into a run and practically jumped into it.

She leapt from limb to limb and was a quarter of the way up by the time the others even got to the trunk. By the time they were a quarter of the ways there, she had reached the net. There it was, on the top of the pile, an oak wood bow and a full quiver. Her eyes light up and she flew over the net and up the pile until it was in her hand.

She slung the quiver over her shoulder and loaded an arrow. Merchan was at the front of the other tributes and had a hand on the net. She considered shooting him but as she took aim she knew she couldn't do it. Instead, she put the arrow back into the quiver, placed the bow over her shoulder and ran. In an instant she was soaring through the air. She landed hard on the branches in one of the neighboring trees, one that wasn't supporting the cornucopia, and almost lost her grip.

She clung tightly to the branch and glanced over at the net. Merchan had reached the cornucopia and her heart twisted in her body when he pulled out an axe. The other tributes were there as well, now, and getting their hands on whatever they could find. They crawled over the pile like ants; vicious ants that were fighting to the death.

Merchan cut someone's head off and Feral left immediately, not wanting to see any more. Dangerously, she leapt from tree to tree, until she couldn't hear or see the cornucopia anymore. She wasn't sure how long she stayed in that tree, hundreds of feet off the ground, but she at least stayed until the cannon sounded to acknowledge the deaths of the tributes that had been killed in the bloodbath. _One… three… six… _Six of the tributes had died already. That left eighteen to fight to the death over the upcoming days.

Feral knew she needed to find water and shelter before the sun set. It was a little past noon and the clock was ticking. Slowly and quietly she made her way down from the tree. After seeing a poisonous snake swimming by in the waters below, she decided that it would be better for her if she didn't walk through the marsh. Instead, she decided to continue to jump over it, hopping from tree to tree like a squirrel might. Glancing at the sky she figured out which direction was which. Randomly picking west, she set off, leaping through the trees.

While in a strong tree with thick limbs, she took a rest, leaning against the trunk with her legs dangling over the sides. A squirrel landed on the branch in front of her and Feral couldn't believe her luck. Batting back tears, she silently loaded an arrow and let it fly. It pierced the eye of the squirrel and it fell to the swamp floor, dead. She glanced around before climbing down from the tree, snatching the game and scrambling back up into the safety of the branches. Using the tip of one of her arrows, she skinned the poor creature until it looked absolutely hideous and revolting. She had learned from her father how to skin a dead animal, and she had also learned how dangerous, and not to mention disgusting, it was to eat a raw piece of game. However, the entire swamp seemed to be soaked. She had to climb dangerously high in the tree to find dry twigs that she could use to make a fire.

Climbing down from the tree she sat on a stump and started a fire on the ground below her. Impaling the squirrel with a broken limb, she roasted it over the fire like a marshmallow until it looked safe enough to eat. As soon as it reached that point, she quickly stomped out the fire. She had been nervous about starting it to begin with, fearing that the Careers or even any of the other tributes would see and go after her.

Using a thin vine she cut off the side of a tree she tied the squirrel to her belt and headed back into the trees. She traveled until she felt that she was far enough away from where she had started the fire that it was safe enough to eat. Leaning against the trunk of the tree, she cut off small pieces of the squirrel with her arrowhead and plopped them into her mouth. She frowned at the taste but forced herself to eat since she would need to keep up her strength. She only ate about half of it, knowing that she would need more food for later.

The sun was slowly beginning to set, and Feral knew that she would have to find shelter. There was not a cloud in the sky, which meant there would be no rain that night. She climbed higher in her tree and tried herself to a sturdy branch using her belt. She watched as the day faded and a beautiful bouquet of stars illuminated the night sky and reflected off the surface of the marshy waters like a rippling mirror. Crickets chirped throughout the arena so loudly she wondered if the sound would be forever echoing in her mind.

She watched through a break in the wall of leaves as the anthem played in the sky. She held her breath as it ended, wanting desperately to know who was dead and who was alive. Blade from District Two came up first, his young features being projected into the clouds. Next was the boy from District Five, dead as well. That meant that Rowan had survived the blood bath. Tears raced down Feral's cheeks as Tinn's face appeared in the sky. Sweet, cautious Tinn who had never done anything wrong in his life. She knew it would happen but it still hurt so badly. She choked back a sob by biting down on her hand. Tiff from District Eight appeared, her wild eyes leaving permanent marks on Feral's psyche. Merchan was still alive. The girl from District Eleven was dead, and so was the girl from Twelve. Everyone else was alive and hoping her face would be the next to appear in the sky.


	13. Traveling

**Sorry about how long its beens since I've updated this story, I've been busy riding roller coasters XD**

**Anyway sorry this chapter is short but the next one is coming soon!**

**My nephew's hat is squeezing my head... :/**

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><p>The night was cold and it took Feral at least an hour to finally drift off. When she did, her night was filled with images of the dead tributes, conjuring up different possibilities to how they met their demise. Most hauntingly was Tinn, trying to feel around to figure out his surroundings when Merchan came up behind him with his axe and sunk it deep into Tinn's skull. He pulled it out, blood dripping from the metal and staining the water red.<p>

Feral woke shivering and covered in sweat, as she always did. She cut the remains of the squirrel from her belt and ate it for breakfast, leaving nothing left. She climbed down from the tree and buried the skeleton deep in the moist earth, making sure to leave no sign behind that she had been there.

Her muscles screamed as she stood, tired from yesterday's work out of leaping from branches and trees. She decided to walk on the ground, being extremely carefully where she stepped and making sure there were no nearby poisonous creatures lurking in the murky water. The going was tough and slow, as she often got her feet tangled in plants and tripped over roots that had been hidden beneath the mud.

A cannon sounded somewhere in the distance and Feral looked around anxiously. Somewhere in the arena someone had just died. Someone with a family and friends and a life they could have gone back to, had they survived the Games and became Victor.

By the time she reached the edges of the marsh she was covered in mud and water. Since the only thing she had seen in a day was marsh, anything other then that was gorgeous to her. The ground sloped up to a small field, the center of which was ripped right down the middle by a raging river that was lived with smooth black stones, some as tall as Feral herself. She lumbered over to it and sat down, letting her fingers touch the surface of the water. It was cool but not cold, and deeper in, shadows of fish danced in the water. She leaned against one of the warm stones and quickly fell asleep.


	14. Crystalline

**Don't murder me because I haven't posted in ten days! I've been... err... preoccupied with... stuff... that I'm trying to forget about...**

**Anyway, its nice to be posting on Through the Trees again! So I just noticed that I have a character in this story with the same first name as one of the characters in my SYOT Quiet Like the Snow. Freaky. PLEASE review, favorite, subscribe... you know what button to hit XD**

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><p>When she awoke she yawned and sat up. It was about three o' clock in the afternoon, judging by the position of the sun. Feral's throat was completely dry. She leaned toward the river and filled her cupped hands with its cool water. She raised it to her lips and was about to drink…<p>

"I have water purifier, you know," said a voice behind her. She was on her feet in seconds, an arrow notched and ready to penetrate the skull of whoever had just spoken. It was Zephyr, who sat cross-legged on top of the boulder she had been leaning against. He held a spear in his left hand, but when Feral raised her bow to aim, he quickly dropped it on the ground and held up his hands. "Whoa, Feral, no hostility intended."

Slowly she lowered her bow and arrow but her muscles remained tense and she was ready to run, or shoot, if she needed to. "Then why are you here?"

"Well," He said calmly stepping off the boulder. "I was… worried about you. And we'd be much safer with two of us. Surviving would be easier; hunting would be much simpler…"

If Feral was in the _true_ wild she wouldn't trust him. She had to remind herself, however, that they were on camera. If he killed her the whole of Panem would hate him. She dropped her bow and embraced him. She wasn't sure how long they stood there hugging, just enjoying each others presence, but they eventually pulled away.

"Here," He said, pulling a backpack from behind the boulder. They sat on the pebbles across from each other "This is what I have: this backpack, water purifier, a canteen, this bag of raisins, a dagger, a flashlight, a few bandages and my spear." He laid each item down in between them.

"I have a bow and some arrows," Feral announced placing them in front of her. Compared to his pile, hers looked pathetic. "But I had a squirrel yesterday."

"Cool," he nodded. "How many arrows do you have?"

"Um… I don't know," she admitted feeling foolish for not having counted already. "Let me look…" She pulled her quiver onto her lap and carefully counted the arrows. She ended up having twenty arrows in all. "Twenty,"

"That's a good number," He nodded.

"What'd you have to do to get so much stuff?" Feral asked curiously, tilting her head, remembering she was supposed to be like a fox. He chuckled at how she cocked her head before answering.

"Well," he said, his face growing solemn. "I was one of the first tributes to get to the cornucopia so I originally grabbed two spears. Suddenly, Wrath came up behind me and tried to hit me with this really big club. I ducked out of the way and impaled his shoulder with my other spear. We were really close to the edge of the net and he fell off, but he hit a branch instead of falling all the way to the ground. He didn't die yesterday, but I don't know if it was him the cannon sounded for this morning or not..."

"If you hurt him like you say you did," Feral said, picking up a smooth, grey stone and turning it over in her hands. "Then I'm surprised he survived past yesterday at all. He should have bled out already; it must have been him." Zephyr nodded in agreement.

Feral stretched out on the warm river stones and looked up at the blue sky above her. When nightfall came around she would know who it had been who had died that morning. Zephyr lay down beside her and she rested her head on his shoulder. The sky was dotted with clouds and on the far horizon loomed a thunderstorm. It looked like it was just breaching the edges of the arena. Feral watched for what seemed like an hour as lightning flashed down from the clouds and licked at the earth.

"We're going to have to find shelter," Feral breathed as the storm drew closer. "We can't sleep in the rain, we'll get sick." Zephyr smiled and rose to his feet. Feral sat up, brushing her hair out of her face.

"Then follow me, beautiful," He said gently, holding out a hand. Feral took it and he helped her to her feet. He didn't let go as he lead her further upriver, away from the swamp. They walked for what felt like thirty minutes before reaching something that took Feral's breath away. It was a huge, jagged cliff that scratched at the sky with black-stoned fingers. A waterfall fell over the side, painting a rainbow in the air and feeding into the river that roared past them. Zephyr led her closer to the cliff face and Feral realized that the water fall almost curved away from it, leaving a small ledge behind it that was only hit by the spray. Carefully balancing on the ledge, they edged forward until they reached a small hole in the wall. Zephyr crouched down and disappeared into it. Feral took a step forward and crawled on her hands and knees, trying to see into the hole. Suddenly, it light up and Feral could see inside the immense cave. She gawked at its beauty as she crawled inside. Stalagmites and stalactites were everywhere, glittering with water particles that coated the entire cave. Crystals grew on the ceiling and in deep cracks in the walls and the floor, shining gorgeously in the light from Zephyr's flashlight. The entire floor was an array of pebbles and stones, worn down by unseen forces until they were perfectly smooth. In the center of the room was a small pool of water, fed by the dew dripping off the largest stalactite that hung only three feet from the surface of the water.

"Welcome to the Crystal Cave," Zephyr smiled. Feral stood beside him, a huge grin alight on her face.

"It's beautiful," Feral breathed. She stepped deeper into the cave and sat down next to the pool. Zephyr joined her as she let her fingers dance across the surface of the water.

"One of us needs to go hunting," he said after awhile. Feral glanced up. "We don't know how long the storm is going to last, we need to be prepared for the worst."

"I'll go then," Feral said, standing up and throwing her quiver over her shoulder. She picked up her bow from where she had carefully placed it on the stones. "I'm quieter and faster. I'll be able to catch more." Zephyr looked unconvinced and horribly uncomfortable with the idea, but his growling stomach put in a few words of its own. He hadn't eaten since he arrived in the arena.

"Alright," he said finally. "But please, Feral… be careful."

"I will." She nodded. She headed out of the Crystal Cave and past the waterfall until she was once again walking along the edges of the river. The trees in the area weren't very close together, not providing much cover for her to hide in. She got lucky when she found a song bird sitting on the branch of a tree. Carefully, she took aim and hit the bird on the first try, knocking it to the ground. She went to pick it up. She frowned when she tried to get her arrowhead out of the bird and it broke off inside the poor creature. Feral frowned and threw the rest of the arrow into the river.

By the time she made it back to the Cave the sun was setting, but the clouds blotted out the sky. Feral stepped inside the cave and dropped the dead sparrow in Zephyr's lap. "This is only going to be enough to feed one of us," He observed.

"I'm not really hungry," Feral lied. He looked at her uncertainly and looked like he was about to say something when the Anthem of Panem ripped across the quiet landscape. Feral helped Zephyr to his feet and the two of them made their way outside. Staring up at the sky they watched as the seal of Panem was broadcasted in the clouds. When the anthem ended only one face was shown. It was Wrath's.

"Well," Zephyr murmured. "I guess that answers that question." Feral buried her face in his shirt and sobbed. He held onto her tight, like he was afraid she was going to slip away from him. When they finally moved it was to go back into the cave, where they spent the night side by side, sleeping in the shadows of the Crystal Cave, safely hidden behind the waterfall.


	15. Panic

Feral awoke to the sound of a cannon fire. She sat up and looked at the spot next to her. Zephyr was missing.

Before she knew it she was racing out of the cave and alongside the river, tearing towards the marsh with tears racing down her face. "Zephyr!" She screeched, not caring who heard. "Zephyr, where are you?"

She splashed into the marsh, kicking up water and mud. She raced around every tree and jumped over every rock. She needed to find him. She was careless in her panic, tripping over roots and slipping in the mud. She looked hideous when she finally found him standing in the marsh a dead raccoon over his shoulder and his spear in his left hand. She ran to him and embraced him.

"Hey," he said calmly. "You look horrible. What happened to your head?" he asked, running his fingers over a three-inch cut on her forehead that she had gotten from one of her falls. She was suddenly hit by a wall of dizziness and he had to catch her to keep her from falling to the ground. "Whoa, Feral… come on, let's take you back to the Crystal Cave, okay?" He picked her up in his arms and began to carry her out of the marsh. She fell almost limp in his arms, all of her energy lost. On the way back he dipped her in the shallows of the river, washing all the mud and blood off her. The cut on her forehead was still bleeding badly. When they got back to the cave he laid her down on the stones beside the pool and rested her head gently on the ground, rummaging through the contents of his pack. Feral watched with blurry vision as he pulled out a bandage. Wetting his hand he wiped as much blood off her forehead as he could, held the skin together and applied the bandage.

That was when Feral lost consciousness.


	16. Awake

**Okay, so maybe I haven't posted on this story for awhile. Not my fault! Okay, so maybe it is... don't judge me! I've been busy... sort of...**

**Anyway, you all should like this chapter! Favorite, subscribe, REVIEW! And check out my other stories, Finnick Odair's Many Stalkers and Quiet Like the Snow. You all rock! XD**

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><p>"Feral? Feral, are you awake?" Zephyr asked his voice quiet and distant. But it broke through the barrier that kept her separated from the conscious. Her vision slowly came back to her, bright colors coming first and dark following. The first thing she saw was Zephyr's blue eyes.<p>

"I am now," she grumbled, reaching up slowly to touch her head. Her arm shook badly and her injury stung when she touched it. He reached out for her hand and brought it to his lips.

"Hey," he smiled. "You're goanna have to take it easy for a while. You must have taken quite a blow to the head. You slept through the rest of yesterday and half of today."

"Who was it?" She asked. Zephyr blinked at her, confused. "The tribute who died yesterday and I thought it was you."

"Is that what happened?"

"Yes," she nodded. "I heard the cannon fire and when I woke up you weren't there. I panicked and tried to find you."

"Oh," he said. "It was the girl from District Ten. I think her name was… Robin? Yeah, Robin."

"Have there been anymore cannon shots today?"

"No"

"Okay," Feral said quietly. She licked her lips. Her mouth was so dry that her tongue felt like sandpaper. She reached over and picked up Zephyr's canteen of purified water and swallowed almost half of it. Zephyr laughed when she chugged it so fast it splashed all over her face.

"Zephyr," she said slowly. "When we were in the Training Center and I told you about how my sister died in the arena… you said you wouldn't let me share the same fate that she did. What… what did you mean by that?"

He took a long time to answer. When he looked up there was so much determination in his eyes that Feral had no choice but to believe it was true. "I mean… I would rather die before I ever let _anything_ happen to you again."

And they kissed.


	17. Reminiscing Dreams

**So its Friday! YAY! Guess what I get to do tonight. NOTHING. Why? Mom is going to the concert without me -_-**

**Anywho, on a brighter note, I get to see Avengers tomorrow? Are you guys going to see that? If you are, which of them is your favorite? Speak words to me, everyone! Haha, I'm excited. XD**

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><p>One cannon fire. Two. Feral looked up nervously from where she crouched over her kill, a rather plump possum that had been napping on a low-hanging tree branch in plane sight. She was getting better at killing things, the tears rarely coming to her eyes anymore. But she burst out sobbing whenever the cannons fired.<p>

Wiping her face, she quickly stood, grabbed the game and raced off through the trees. She had become more jumpy over the last few days. Everything had seemed so quiet. That had been the first deaths since Day Four when Robin had died. It was Day Eight.

She knew they would come for her and Zephyr soon. There had been plenty of romance between the two of them but almost no drama since Feral had bumped her head. From the lack of cannons over that time period it seemed to have been the same for the other tributes as well.

She was either getting more cautious or more paranoid, jumping at every sound and racing back through the trees to the cave at the slightest sign of danger. She was on edge whether the swamplands were too loud or to quiet. Every shadow hid a threat, every breeze masked movements. Zephyr's life and even her own were too precious to be careless with.

She ran all the way back to the waterfall and by the time she reached it she was so out of breath that she fell onto the floor of the cave in a tired heap. "Well, nice to see that cannon blast wasn't for you." Zephyr grinned, brushing a strand of hair from her face. Feral laughed halfheartedly in between the gasps for breath and held up the possum. "Wow! This will be enough to feed us for today and tomorrow. Good thing, too, it looks like storm clouds are moving in again." Feral nodded tiredly as Zephyr pulled out a knife and began to skin the possum.

Feral rolled over on her stomach and held one of the rocks in her hand. It was beautiful and flawless, its smooth grey surface allowing her hand to travel over it without hitting any abrasions or fractures. It reminded her so much of the rocks they had at home, the ones that could be found in the riverbeds that made an attractive _clink_ sound when they bumped together. The rocks in the arena didn't make the same sound, more like a grinding noise like they were being worn down, and she had a theory that it was because the stones in District Seven were forest rocks instead of swamp pebbles. In her mind they were stronger, and harder to break down then the arena stones.

She missed her family tremendously. She missed her father's quiet and strong aura. She missed Pinn's young yet calm and intelligent voice and wish that it could reach her ears again. She missed Willow's timid and a bit naive outlook on life, how she thought that although things were sometimes scary they always turned out alright in the end. She missed Sage's sarcastic tones, and she even missed Tier's snappy remarks and fiery rage against the Capitol.

And she could finally understand Tier's rage. They had ripped her and twenty-three others away from their families and homes, the people and the places they had lived their whole lives with, and threw them into an arena to fight to the death. It was their sick, twisted way of staying in control and as her life would fade away they would laugh and eat in happiness, celebrating the success of yet another Hunger Games. It made her want to scream.

"I want to go home," Zephyr breathed as if he read her thoughts. He didn't make eye contact with her, just stared at the floor of the Crystal Cave. "I want to go back to District Eight. I dreamed last night that I was there, that the Hunger Games were over and done with. Everything was exactly the way I left it, the smell of the berries we use to make the dies in the air, the tired charm in everyone's voices. But I know better. If I do win this, nothing is ever going to be the same."

"I had a dream like that a few nights ago," Feral admitted. She hadn't even noticed that her hand had strayed to her mother's necklace where it caressed the silver leaf. "I was in the forest and everything was so real. All the leaves were perfect and the birds and crickets chirped in the background like they always do. You can't go anywhere in District Seven without them being there. I was walking down a dirt path and it emptied out of the forest beside my house. I went into the house and my family was there waiting for me. They asked where I had been and if I wanted some apples. They are my favorite you know, apples. Then I woke up. But for a moment I was there with them, again, safe and sound. For a moment everything was perfect."

Zephyr was getting restless in the cave doing nothing but waiting for Feral to return with their next meal. Feral told him how dangerous it was for them to say in the same place for so long, that soon one of the other tributes would find them. However he insisted that they stay, that the Crystal Cave was a safe haven. Everything they needed was so easy to find and their shelter was so perfect for them. He said it was a gift. Feral thought it was a trap, meant to lure them into becoming to comfortable.

She thought she heard something fluttering outside and went to investigate. A parachute had landed outside the cave, the first for her and Zephyr since the beginning of the Games. Hesitantly walking over to inspect it, Feral picked up the basket that was tied to it. Inside were two loaves of bread, but they weren't from anywhere she recognized. She had to stare long and hard at the crusty well-baked bread before she realized where it was from. District Six, the transportation district. Eve wanted them to leave.

"Zephyr," Feral said crawling back into the cave. He looked up from a spear that he was trying to carve out of a tree branch that had almost landed on him on Day Six. "We have to leave. Now."

"Why?" he asked slightly amused as if the idea were ridiculous.

"Look what our mentors sent," she said, holding out the basket for him to see.

"Its bread," he observed.

"Not just any bread!" Feral said in frustration. "This is bread from District Six, the district of transportation! I knew it was dangerous to stay here; they are trying to tell us that! We need to leave."

"Feral," he said slowly. "You might be right. But look, the day is halfway over; there would be no point in leaving today. We should spend the night where it's safe and wait until tomorrow to try and find shelter somewhere else. Storm clouds are moving in, remember? We should stay here another night."

"Fine," Feral said resentfully. She stood up. "But I'm going hunting again." Without waiting for a response she marched out of the Crystal Cave and sulked down the riverbank. At one point she thought she saw the bushes shake violently, but when she went to inspect them she saw it was nothing. She shrugged it off as a bird having a spasm, or something. Continuing on down the river she finally reached the marsh and stepped into the murky waters. She had been stalking around for fifteen minutes when she finally realized something was horribly wrong. Everything was dead silent and there was not a creature in sight.

That's when the cannon blasts began. First one, then two. Feral didn't know what it was exactly that sparked her panic state again, but she barely even realized she was running before she was halfway back to the cave. She went faster then she ever had before.

When she reached the Crystal Cave, Hera's dead body lay outside impaled with the spear Zephyr had been crafting. Tears burst out of Feral's ears at the sight of it but she didn't stop running. She pulled an arrow out of her quiver and loaded it into her bow as she leapt over the body.

She burst into the cave just as Teck stabbed Zephyr in the heart.


	18. Submerged

**So Kitty (AKA Design Rueger) is all, "You need to post more!" ...So here I am. Plus, I'm almost at the end of this story so I'm excited to get to the end! EXCITMENT! Sorry, this chapter was so short, I'll post the next in a few minutes :)**

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><p>Feral was frozen in fear and panic. It gave Teck just enough time to see her standing there. He was shocked just as much as she was, and when he pulled out one of his hand grenades he fumbled with it. He pulled out the cord but didn't throw it in time. He blew himself up.<p>

Blood splattered her head to toe as the cave began to come crashing down around her. Rocks fell everywhere and she had just enough time to throw herself out of the cave before she was crushed. She fell straight into the roar of the river.

The bad part was that she couldn't swim.

Her head was forced under the water and her body was smacked up against the floor of the river again and again. Time lost its meaning as she was thrown around at the mercy of the turbulent waters. As she was pulled along she had lost all her strength from lack of oxygen. She couldn't move. She had no will. She just had to follow the commands of the river.

Suddenly, something with great force sucked her downward into a whole in the rocks at the bottom of the river. It was so narrow that she was paralyzed with fear, even more so then she had already been. As she blacked out she realized what she was in. An underwater river. She was going to die.


	19. Weighing the Odds

**So, I'll admit that this story isn't my best ever. However, if you like this story you'll love my SYOT Quiet Like the Snow. I also highly suggest you checck out my other story, Finnick Odair's Many Stalkers. So, there is some incredibly obvious (if you ask me, anyway) foreshadowing this chapter. Can anyone guess whats gonna happen? I hope so! Tell me what you think in the reviews! :)**

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><p>Feral woke up to dark blue eyes. "Uh… Zephyr?"<p>

"No," the voice wasn't Zephyr's. "It's me." Suddenly everything came back to her so fast. The cannon blasts, Hera's body, Zephyr being murdered, the cave-in, the river… She remembered everything.

"Rowan!" she exclaimed sitting up so quickly she almost hit his head with her own. She looked around frantically. They were in the marsh, under a towering tree with branches almost as wide as Feral. The ground was damp, but not as wet as the rest of the marsh. It was slightly elevated. Feral's bow and quiver, which had lost almost half its arrows in the river, sat a few paces away. She considered making a break for them and shooting Rowan. But then she realized that if he wanted to kill her he would have. "Who else is dead?"

"Hera, Teck and both tributes from District Nine all died on Day Eight. Since then-"

"Whoa, wait," Feral interrupted. "You said _since_. Rowan, what day is it?"

"Day Eleven," He replied blankly. She gasped and lay back down on the moist earth. "And I'd really appreciate it if I could finish my sentences." Feral glanced at him. He looked tense and tired. He wasn't the kind teenager she had met before the chariot race. The arena had changed him. Or he had never been who she thought he was to start with. "The girl from District Three died on Day Nine and so did the girl from District Two. No one died yesterday and there haven't been any cannon blasts today."

"Oh…" Feral nodded. She looked up suddenly. "Rowan how did you save me? The last thing I remember was being sucked into an underground river! You couldn't have gotten me out of there!"

"I didn't," he shrugged. "I found you washed up on some rocks in the swamp a little ways away."

"Oh…" she said again. Rising to her feet, Feral tried to stand up but shook so badly she immediately tumbled to the ground again.

"Be careful," Rowan said, at her side immediately. She could tell he had just remembered that he was supposed to be in love with her, and his acting skills were superb. Feral, however, could see the lies in his eyes.

"I will," she promised, making sure to look in love. Suddenly she flicked her gaze away, feeling guilty about being to close to him after Zephyr's death. She had truly loved Zephyr. She didn't even know Rowan anymore. After a few more attempts at standing she got her footing again. "I'm going hunting," she announced even though her head was spinning.

"Oh, no you're not," Rowan said firmly, standing as well. "You are too weak. Besides, I'll just catch some fish for us. You stay here and rest while I go fishing." Feral wanted desperately to object but figured that would reflect badly on her to the cameras.

"Alright," she sighed instead, sitting down and leaning up against the base of the tree. As she waited for him to return she considered her position. Her only option at the moment was to let Rowan take care of her, no matter how terribly annoying it was. She was in no condition to do anything else. But once she was healed… what would she do then?

When she was thirteen a mother had brought her son to Feral. He had fallen out of a tree, which wasn't uncommon in District Seven. The difference was that he had landed on his head. There had been a huge five inch gash on his forehead and he had lost a lot of blood. She had managed to keep him alive, but he had to stay at her home for several weeks. Even then it took him a month before he fully recovered.

Feral's injuries thankfully weren't as bad as his had been, but she knew it would at least take her a week to fully recover. Most Hunger Games only lasted for two weeks, and it would take her at least several days to be strong enough to support herself if she needed to. She might not have that much time.

A cannon went off and Feral wondered who it was. She prayed it wasn't Rowan, because if it was then she didn't stand much of a chance.

She watched a bird fluttering around in the branches above her head. Eventually it settled down on a certain branch. Slowly Feral pulled herself over to her bow and her quiver. Notching an arrow she carefully took aim. It took all of her focus to shoot the bird out of the tree. Its song was cut off abruptly as its life was ended. Pulling herself over to the dead bird she yanked the arrow out of its head and used the arrowhead to skin in. By the time Rowan got back she had already cooked it and was eating it.

"Why did I even bother to go fishing…" he asked, three fish tied to his belt. "If you were just going to catch something anyway?"

"Oh, come on," Feral grumbled, plopping a piece of cardinal in her mouth. "It landed right above my head; it was such an easy shot! And I hate feeling useless, I needed to do something."

"Fish don't keep well," he growled in response. Feral could practically feel them loosing sponsors…. or at least him loosing sponsors for being so stubborn. Feral turned her fox charm back on. She shrugged and after a few seconds cocked her head to the side and smiled crookedly. "What?"

"Nothing," she giggled. "Just thinking about how handsome you look, even when you are covered in blood and dirt."

"Thanks," he said looking surprised. He grinned, remembering again how important sponsorships were to them. "But nothing could compare to your beauty." She giggled and they ate in silence for a little while. They finished and just sat around quietly, each lost in their own thoughts.

Another cannon blast went off. A Mockingjay let out a warning cry and the entire forest went silent as the hovercraft appeared and lifted away the remains of a body. It was so close to them that Feral could see everything clearly and in detail. It was Jenn and she had been stabbed by something.

"That's not a wound you'd get from something in nature…" Rowan said as the hovercraft disappeared. "That's a wound you'd get from a weapon, like a spear or a sword."

"The Careers?" Feral asked fearfully.

"We need to leave," Rowan stated. "That was to close; they could find us any second." Rowan madly grabbed all their belongings. Feral strapped her quiver over her shoulder and grabbed her bow. He helped her unsteadily to her feet and they went as quickly as they could with Feral falling over rocks, sticks and even the occasional flat surface.

At one point she tripped over a tree root and fell to the ground. Rowan was at her side in seconds and she raised her hand to take his so he could help her up. Her arm was bleeding. She glanced over at where it had landed to see a broken tree limb, the shattered end splattered red with blood. Feral ignored it afterwards, pulling herself unsteadily to her feet and persevering on. The wound wasn't at her wrist, thank god, but instead just slightly below her elbow. However, the injury was deep and blood streamed out of it while she tried hard to ignore the pain.

They pushed on until the sun began to set, when they finally fell over at the base of a tree. Rowan tossed her a bandage, one of their only three, and she wrapped it gratefully around her arm. It wouldn't do too much to help but it was better then nothing. "Do… you think we went far enough…?" she panted so exhausted that she could barely speak.

"Yeah," Rowan nodded, out of breath but not looking at all tired. "I think so."

"Hey," Feral said after awhile. "We're down to seven tributes."

"Eight."

"What?"

"I counted eight."

"Oh, well, whatever," she shrugged. "They'll be doing the interviews with our families. Gosh, I hope Tier doesn't say anything stupid. And my little sister, Willow, she's so camera shy…"

"I don't know who they'll interview for me," Rowan said, looking at the setting sun.

"What do you mean? Don't you have a family?"

"Not anymore," he murmured. Feral wanted to ask more but tears were welling up in his eyes. She knew when to shut up. She continued to think about what it would be like for her family having to do an interview. She was worried deeply that Tier would blurt out some insult against the Capitol that would make her look bad, or even get him arrested. Then there would be Sage with her snapped comments and dry remarks. She was nice and kind to her friends and family but she wasn't nearly as welcoming with anyone else. Willow might be so nervous about having people in their home that she'd forget to lock the cabinet with all of Feral's healing supplies. Her herbs _were_ illegally obtained after all. Pinn would probably do a good job but her father might refuse to speak to them completely.

_I'm in the final eight,_ the thought finally hit Feral and she couldn't help but perk up a bit. She had never realized up until that point that her chances of winning were improving. But of course, she had been unconscious for three days and then had just been stabbed in the arm with a broken tree limb, so maybe her odds weren't as good as she hoped.


	20. Alone and Full of Regrets

**OMG ITS CHAPTER TWENTY! YAY! *falls over and dies of excitment before coming back to life* Okay, so originally, I was going to do something really cool for this chapter, but, um, I couldn't really think of anything that could happen at this point, so its just a normal chapter. AS usual, review, favorite, subscribe! I HEART U!**

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><p>Two faces were broadcasted in the sky that night, Jenn's and the boy from District Ten's. Counting on her fingers Feral found that there were only seven of them left. She missed Zephyr so much, she couldn't help but let two perfect teardrops fall from her bright blue eyes. They used to watch the sky every night for the faces of the dead tributes together. It was the first night that she had been conscious that he hadn't been there with her.<p>

She began to wonder what had happened to Merchan. He wasn't dead, after all, and he _was_ the other District Seven tribute. Back in the district they must have been having a party, having two tributes got so far in the Hunger Games. District Seven wasn't very lucky with their tributes, but they were certainly luckier then districts like Eleven or Twelve. She rested her hand on her fist, thinking. Merchan was strong but he wasn't very smart. He had probably just picked a random direction and started walking in it. Or maybe even joined up with the Careers. She didn't like that thought. She remembered how in the bloodbath he had decapitated one of the other tributes with an axe. Thinking back now, she thought it had been Tiff, the nutty girl from District Eight. The memory sent shivers down her spine.

And then there were the Careers. Where had they been all that time? It was a miracle that she hadn't yet had a run in with them except for when they attacked the cave and killed Zephyr. Hera and Teck had both died then. Spark, Chance and Rivera would be left. The three of them would be a formidable team, Spark with her throwing daggers, Chance with his spear, and Rivera with her sword. Would Feral even stand a chance against them? Her arrows wouldn't be very useful if she was being hacked at by Rivera, who was pretty stealthy and agile. She would easily be able to ambush Feral and Rowan; they wouldn't even know what had hit them. Spark could hit someone with her knives from a fair distance, but not as far away as Feral could with an arrow. Spark wasn't as agile or stealthy as Rivera, and from what Feral had gathered during training, her patience was lacking. Surely she wouldn't be able to get in range of her daggers without Feral knowing of her approach? And then, of course, there was Chance. The eighteen year old was wicked fast with a spear with impeccable aim. He had tall and strong build. Feral had a feeling that he would be the one to kill in the end.

Then there was the guy from District Twelve. Feral thought his name had been Tariff. It was surprising to her, and probably everyone else, that he had survived so long in the Hunger Games. District Twelve tributes were usually the first to die. He had been eighteen and rather muscular. She distantly remembered seeing him running away from the cornucopia as she was making a brake for it. He was pretty slow. Wherever he was, Feral guessed that he was badly injured. District Twelve wasn't one of the Capitol's favorite districts and the Gamesmakers usually went out of their way to make sure they had an especially unpleasant time in the arena if they survived it at all.

But what about Rowan? What would they do if it came down to the two of them in the arena? Feral couldn't kill him, not after he was taking care of her like that, even if he was only doing it for the cameras. Would she even be able to kill him if she wanted to? Rowan was strong and a good fighter. She could have sworn she had seen a trident in the cornucopia. If they killed off the Careers, who were no doubt hording all the weapons and supplies, and they were the only ones left, she feared what he'd be able to do if he got his hands on one.

"I'll take first watch," Feral volunteered. Rowan looked cautious but he eventually agreed, laying down and closing his eyes. As the stars rose in the sky she began to grow especially tired. She wondered how the other tributes could stand staying up so late at night to keep guard. She hated it. Back in the Crystal Cave they had been so well hidden that they didn't need to keep watch. But then again, if it had been so well hidden how had Hera and Teck found them? Feral couldn't help but wonder what had led them to the cave, but she supposed she would never know.

She wondered what her family had said about her in their interviews. Her father had probably told the interviewers some story from when she was little. Most likely it had been the story about the wolves. When Feral was seven she had been with Pinn out in the forest. They were unsupervised and hadn't remembered to tell their father where they were going. As they walked in the woods they came upon a towering oak tree with a wide trunk and thick, low-hanging limbs. Of course, being District Seven children, they had wanted to climb it. All of a sudden a pack of wolves leapt out of the bushes nearby. They circled the trunk of the tree and barked and howled at the children. Well, as they did so, Pinn began to climb dangerously high up in the treetops. He stepped on an especially thin branch and it snapped under his weight. He began to fall but Feral reached out to try to catch him. She caught his arm and he swung precariously, the wolves leaping into the air and snapping just centimeters below his heels. Feral used almost all of her energy to pull him back to safety. They were trapped in the tree for hours. Finally, the sun was starting to set and they were becoming desperate. Finally, Feral had an idea. Climbing higher into the tree, she snapped off two of the skinnier twigs. Rubbing them together furiously, she tried to give them as much friction as possible before they finally caught on fire. She had to act fast before the entire twig burned. Leaping down from the trees she waved the smoldering branch before the wolves, yelling angrily. They turned tail and fled. Helping Pinn down from the tree, they raced away from the forest and ran straight back to their home.

Feral watched as Rowan's breathing slowed as he drifted off to sleep. He would have been kind for taking care of her, if Feral hadn't known better. He was only doing it for himself, to make him seem more likeable so he could get sponsors.

Speaking of sponsors, where were Feral's? She hadn't received any gifts from Eve since the bread she had sent to tell them to leave the Crystal Cave. She must have known that the Careers were close. If only Feral had pushed harder, had made Zephyr leave… if she had done that then he wouldn't be dead.


	21. Flood

**So I skipped some time because nothing exciting happened. Okay with you guys? Anywho, I have a tally for how many chapters there are going to be, since I finished writing Through the Trees (YAY!) just now! There are going to be 25 chapters! I'm so excited! So, I've decided to host an unannouced (until now, anyway) and comepletely random marathon! I will have the last chapter up by today! YAY! After that I will begin a new project, but I don't think its going to be a Hunger Games one. It will most like be a Young Justice fanfiction because, at the moment, I LOVE THAT SHOW! So yes, be prepared for the epicness... XD**

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><p>Nothing of any significance happened until Day Fourteen. Feral was recovering from her injuries she had acquired in the underground river. She could practically sense the growing impatience and boredom of their Capitol audience. She knew something was coming. And she was right.<p>

It was early in the morning when she first noticed the earth growing damper. By noon the water in the swamp was two-inches deep and there was no dry land available. Her own uneasiness was growing in her stomach when the water level reached her ankles.

"Rowan," she said finally. She sat on a rock, her legs pulled to her chest trying to stay dry while her partner sat in the water weaving a net out of vines looking totally contempt with the rate at which it was rising. "We need to go to higher ground. I think the Gamemakers are going to flood the arena. The water keeps rising faster and faster. Pretty soon we are going to be underwater."

"So?" he asked, looking up from his net with a blank expression that made Feral's blood boil.

"_So?_" She repeated anger in her voice. "So I can't swim!"

"I don't think the water is rising too much," he said dismissively. "I mean think about the ocean. The water level rises and falls drastically every day. It's not a big deal. It's probably going to dry up in a little while. Don't get anxious."

_What is he talking about?_ She thought. _Shouldn't he be concerned that I'm going to die! Or… what if… that's what he wants…? _Suddenly she rose to her feet. He looked up, surprised. "I'm leaving," she announced. "With or without you." Not waiting for a response, she slung her quiver over her shoulder and picked up her bow. She started splashing away through the water. He didn't follow her.

She was heading north, hoping that it would be dry there. She was up to her shins in murky H2O when the ground finally began to slope up. The water slowly faded out until she found herself making her way through dry, rolling hills. Out of impulse, she lay down in a bed of grass, relieved that she could finally lie down again and not get soaked to the bone.

However, she was alone. Her temporary happiness left her and she sat up. She would have to fend for herself now and there would be no one she could talk to. But then, perhaps it was a good thing. There would be no one to drag her down and she could just go along with her better judgment.

She looked around in the hills for a little while until she found a pigeon which she shot down. Tying it to her belt she continued to search until she finally found a huge pine tree whose limbs scrapped at the dimming sky. She carefully climbed the limbs to the very top where she perched dangerously on especially thin branches. From the top she could see the entire arena. It was huge and bowl shaped, the marsh being at the bottom and surrounded by elevated land. She could see the river, swelled to twice its capacity and have already broken its banks, raging dark waters into the swamp which, just as she had thought, was about six feet deep in water.

A cannon blast sounded and Feral could see the hovercraft swopping down far off in the distance to pick up the remains of one of the tributes. She swallowed nervously and couldn't help but wonder who it was. Perhaps it had been one of the Careers. Or it could have been Tariff or Merchan… or Rowan. The hovercraft screen showed the dead tribute to have been Tariff. Swallowing nervously, Feral climbed down closer o the ground where the branches were sturdier and clipped her belt around herself and one of them before falling into a deep sleep.


	22. Taken

Rowan screamed in pain as he dragged himself away from the lake. The mud stained his clothes and rocks tore at his body as he crawled away, blood dripping from his mouth. He had left the alligator mutts behind when he had pulled himself over the slippery drop-off that had been too steep from them to climb. He stained the grass scarlet as he pulled himself away.

Propping himself up against a tree, he took inventory of himself. His entire body was cut and his skin was bruised in different variants of grotesque colors. Trembling, he reached downward to feel his leg. The pain was so severe that it threatened to overwhelm him. The wounds gushed ruby liquid onto the ground and he felt as if his strength was being drained away.

His life flashed before his eyes.

He was little, only three, standing on the deck of a beautiful boat. The rising sun painting the landscape in gorgeous pinks and yellows, the light reflecting off the water like a mirror. A flock of birds flew in V-formation off in the distance, heading somewhere cooler for the summer months. His mother sat next to him, reading a book, her long black hair flowing in waves and her bark green eyes sparkled in the light of the rising sun.

He was five and on the beach, playing Frisbee with his father who laughed. His father's smile was beautiful and bright enough to light up all of District Four with its radiance. They kicked up sand as they ran and dived after the Frisbee and his mother watched them with a silent beam from where she sat on a dark green blanket a few feet away.

He was seven, tears racing down his cheeks as he stood next to his mother and watched his father's body drifting away on the small boat. His mother silently threw the torch on the dead body of her husband. Rowan watched as his dad was devoured by the flames.

He was thirteen and at his mother's bedside as her breathing slowed. Her skin was grey, all its color and beauty had been drained away. With a shaking hand she reached up and caressed her only son's face. She used her last breath to say, "I love you."

He was sixteen and standing silently at the Reaping when his name was called. He made his name up to the stage; confetti flying through the air and the calls and shouts of District Four reaching his ears. He couldn't stop the tears from rolling down his face.

He was walking in the arena and suddenly fell, landing hard in the water. Alligators the sizes of horses with glowing yellow eyes and thrashing tails were on him immediately, ripping at his flesh. Three of them went for his right leg, tearing at his skin so violently that chunks ripped off and blood poured out like a waterfall.

Everything had been taken from him in his life. Now his life would be taken from him as well.


	23. Soaked to the Bone

**Sorry about the few hours that have passed since the last chapter (if anyone is actually reading these as I post them), I had to eat some hot wings. :)**

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><p>Feral awoke to the sound of the cannon blast and her eyes flashed open. She was covered in sweat again and her throat was sore. She must have been having the nightmares again, but for once she couldn't remember them. She felt something on her right hand which had been hanging over the side of the branch and pulled it up to her face to examine. It was wet.<p>

_It's wet!_ The shock hit Feral like a lightning bolt. She rolled over out of impulse to splash into the waters only a few feet below. Panicking, she frantically thrashed in the water and, pushing off a submerged tree branch, propelled herself back up onto the limb. She coughed out water for a few minutes before gathering her bearings and pulling herself to the top of the tree. The entire arena was flooded. The tops of the tallest trees stuck out of the water in such a bizarre way it looked like another planet. Only the outer fringes of the bowl-shaped arena were dry.

There was a problem with this. A serious problem. Feral still couldn't swim. She cursed herself for not staying with Rowan. What was she thinking? He could swim! He would have taught her. Now, she was stranded in the top of a tree. Hopefully, though, the water level had stopped rising.

A cannon fired, and from her vantage point she could see the hovercraft on the opposite side of the arena lifting one of the dead tributes into its midst. Fear rocked her body and she clutched on tighter to the branch. If the water level didn't go down then the next tribute to go would be her.

She forced herself to calm down and assess her position. There was no way that she could leap from tree to tree. The water level was too high, the branches that were above the water were too spindly, they would snap under her weight if she jumped on them.

Lowering herself into the water, pushing down the fear, Feral took deep breathed. She forced herself to remain there. It felt unnatural. It lapped at her neck and threatened to drag her under. Out of instinct, she kicked her feet. Slowly, she released the branch. She sank the second she let go and almost panicked. However, the water only went up to her ears. She had to strain her neck to keep her face above the water. Moving her arms in arcing motions she forced herself to push away from the tree.

The going was slow, and she wasn't entirely sure if it was worth swimming to get to the fringes of the arena. They might be underwater as well by the time she got there, if the water level was still rising. As she swam, however, the ground grew closer and closer to her feet, until she could walk again. Emerging from the water, she collapsed on dry land. It was noon.

She wasn't sure how long she lay there. Finally dragging herself to her feet, she slung her bow off her shoulder. It was drenched, as were her arrows. Sure, they were soggy, but she should have still been able to use them. Going into stealth mode, she stalked through the forest, an arrow ready in her bow. She was on high alert. Seeing a bird twittering in the trees she let and arrow fly. The weight added by all the water made it heavier, and the arrow sunk itself into the tree instead. The bird leapt into flight and sent out a warning signal. Groaning she made her way over to the tree. The arrow was stuck hard, and when she pulled as hard as she could it still didn't budge. Deciding just to leave it in the tree she continued on, although she knew that she wouldn't be able to find any more game since the bird alerted all the animals in the area to her presence.

She, of course, knew what the Gamemakers were trying to do. It was a rather simple tactic. They wanted to drive all the tributes to the edges of the arena where they would eventually and inevitably run into each other. In a few days, there would be only a handful of tributes left.


	24. Eyes Widened in Betrayal

**Shortest. Chapter. Ever. Sorry about that, but its a good chapter, with foreshadowing for the next. Oh dear god, the next chapter is the last chapter!**

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><p>Her stomach growled as she lay on a tree branch. The sun was setting and she hadn't found any food. Over the course of the day there had only been two cannon blasts, the one she had heard that morning and one later in the day. Clipping her belt around herself and the tree branch, she was prepared incase she fell out. Honestly, it was a miracle that she hadn't fallen out yet, considering the violence of her nightmares.<p>

The anthem blared and the sky light up with the crest of Panem. Feral twiddled her thumbs, bored, until the song finally ended. The first face in the sky shook her to her core. Rowan. He was dead. Tears sprang from her eyes and when Merchan's face was shown next, more came.

There were only four of them left, her and the Careers. Surely their alliance was already broken up.

XXX

The second the faces show up in the sky, Spark launched a knife straight at Rivera's head. It sunk right in between her eyes and she fell to the ground, blood trickling out of the wound and her eyes still widened in betrayal. Her cannon sounded and Chance gaped at Spark in astonishment. She took the opportunity to hit him in the heart with a throwing dagger. Shocked, he fell to his knees, looking at the knife lodged in his chest.

"I thought…" He muttered, blood dipping out of the edges of his mouth.

"I don't love anyone," Spark hissed back as he fell to the ground and his cannon sounded. _This is going to be easy, _Spark thought. _There are only three of us left…_

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><p><strong>No, I did not mess up when I said that there were three of them left, I meant it! DUN DUN DUN! Anywho, I'm going to take a shower... feel free to guess what's going to happen while I'm gone... :)<strong>


	25. No Room For A Fox

**I would like to say to all of my readers out there that I am really grateful for all of your love and support, it really means the world to me. I'm really sad that this story has to come to an end, but everything must, after all. Both the song and the poem are mine. I'm going to be honest with you and say that this isn't the happiest ending. I wrote about what I think would actually happen. Again, thank you all for all of the support. This was the first story I ever posted on Fanfiction and you all really made it worth while. In result, this story really means a lot to me, so I hope you liked it. I love you all and thank you for making this story a success.**

**-Rose Hunter**

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><p>Feral sat with her back against a pine tree, trying to pick the dirt out from under her nails. She hadn't noticed until now how hideously dirty she had gotten since she had been launched into the arena.<p>

Suddenly, a hideous sucking sound boomed throughout the entire arena. Panicking, she was up the tree in an instant. At the top she peered through the branches, trying desperately to see what was happening. She watched in horror as the water in the swamp begun to spin and in one terrifying moment, flooded into a hole in the center of the arena. The force was so powerful that it dragged almost all of the trees along with it, leaving the arena to look bear and open.

Gasping, she made her way down from the tree and looked around. It was one of the only ones left. _How am I supposed to stand a chance without any cover? _Feral thought. _There aren't any trees to climb any more… I'm out of my element._ Pulling an arrow out of her quiver and loading it into her bow she made her way towards the center of the arena, not wanting to stay in one place any longer. _There's only one other tribute left, _She said to herself. The Gamemakers would be driving them together.

The smell of smoke told her it was true. She looked around to see that the scent came from the far side of the arena. That must have been where her competitor was. A bird sung in the trees above her head. Figuring that she would need her strength, so raised her bow to shoot the blue jay out of the branches.

That's when a knife sank into her hand.

She shrieked and dropped her bow. Clutching at her hand she looked up to face her attacker. Spark slowly walked towards her wearing a demonic smile and carrying a throwing dagger in each hand. Feral leapt out of the way as one of them whooshed past her head. Ripping the dagger out of her own hand with a screech, she chucked it at Spark, but she nimbly dodged out of the way.

"Oh, how cute," Spark cooed. "The foxy wants to play…" Spark launched two more knives at Feral and she had to hit the deck to avoid them. Spark leapt at her and Feral barely rolled out of the way. She tried to crawl away but Spark was to fast. She pounced on her and the two girls tussled on the ground, each trying to get the upper hand. Feral ended up on bottom, with her foe pinning her to the ground and holding a small dagger gleefully in her hands.

"Get away from me…" Feral hissed as Spark slowly brought the blade closer to Feral's neck.

"But what fun would that be?" The blonde girl giggled. Slowly, she dragged her dagger across Feral's cheek painfully. All the while, much to Feral's horror, she quietly sang something rather nightmarish.

_"Hush little baby, don't say a word_

_ You'll die screaming but you won't be heard_

_ I'll cut you open and blood will spill_

_ Oh, it is so fun to kill_

_ I hate you with all my might_

_ You cannot put up a fight_

_ I'll snap your bones like they are sticks_

_ I love the pain my knife inflicts_

_ You will shriek, and I will sing_

_ You will forget everything…"_

As she reached the last line, she brought the knife down on Feral's neck. At the last second, Feral worked her leg up under Spark and with a mighty heave, threw her off. Scrambling to her feet, she turned tail and fled, willing herself to travel faster then ever before.

Suddenly, she felt a sharp pain in her shoulder. Tumbling to the ground, she reached her arm around and felt around until she found the dagger. She grimaced as she yanks it out, her scarlet blood staining the blade. She pain was tremendous, seeping into the very fiber of her being and rocking her very core with mind-shattering agony.

Slowly, Spark drew closer, a demented grin alight on her face. She continued singing.

_"With great pleasure I'll rip out your eyes…_

_ How I love when the hero dies…"_ As she reached the final line of her song she whipped out a knife with a wicked curved blade that glinted in the light of the sun. _This is it,_ Feral thought, not able to move. _This will be the death of me._ Spark stood above her and wielded the dagger above her head.

As she brought the knife down on Feral, she remembered her childhood. How, when she was little, had pretended to be a warrior in the back yard, dueling her siblings with wooden swords and pretending that everything was going to be okay. She remembered the sunsets she had watched with her friends as the crickets sung up to the heavens, how up until now she had lived her life in almost a trance-like state. Nothing was fine. Nothing would ever be fine. The world she thought she knew where heroes would always come out on top and the people could live their lives in peace, didn't exist.

The knife's blade never hit her. As she felt a warm liquid drip onto her face she flashed open her eyes. Zephyr stood facing away from her, Spark crumpled at his feet, blood flowing steadily from where a silver spear penetrated her chest.

"Zephyr…" Feral breathed. Slowly he turned around and she couldn't help but smile at the sight of his face. He collapsed, falling to the ground in a crumpled heap. For the first time she saw the knife stuck in his gut and the blood oozing out of the wound. "Zephyr!" Leaping towards him, she pulled his head into her lap and brushed his wavy blonde hair out of his gorgeous blue eyes brimmed with tears.

"Hey, beautiful," He whispered when he saw her.

"You…" She murmured. "You aren't dead…"

"For the moment," He chuckled.

"But I thought…" She trailed off as Spark's cannon fired.

"Thought?" He asked. "Did anyone tell you that I was dead? Did you… hear my cannon sound?"

"No," She admitted, realizing her mistake. Suddenly, everything made sense. "You've… been watching out for me…?" He nodded. "When Jenn was killed, that wasn't the Careers, was it? It was you." He nodded, his face contorted in pain. "Why did you do it?"

"Because," He said so quietly that she could barely hear him. "I promised you that I wouldn't let anything happen to you…" His voice grew faint and so did his heartbeat. Tears streamed from Feral's eyes as his cannon sounded and the sounds of a cheering Capitol echoed through the arena. It didn't matter, though, she didn't hear it.

She would never fit in with anyone again; she was just another victor for the capitol to parade around. She was truly alone; no one would ever accept her again. And she didn't want them to. She didn't want to go back to a life where everything was a lie, where the truth was just a piece of dishonesty wrapped up in a ball of hatred. She knew the truth now.

XXX

Nothing seemed real to her after the arena. Even in the moments she got off of the train and found her family standing before her on the platform, emotions did not come to her. The arena had become reality. Everything outside it was just an illusion.

On most days she would sit beside the window in her home in the Victor's Village, mindlessly watching the people mill about in the street below her. Often she would stroke the scars the Hunger Games had given her. She had insisted to the prep team that she kept them. She needed to remember what the Capitol had done to her, what they had turned her into. Sometimes Willow would sit in her lap, softly whispering her things in her ear. But Feral heard nothing.

"Feral, please," Willow sobbed one day. "You can't leave us… we need you. Feral, talk to me!" Something had stirred deep inside her, which was true. But as if in a dream she could not respond, could not do anything other then stroke her scars and let her gaze remain outside the window. She'd watch the clouds drift by in the sky, wondering if they felt free, being able to see the world below them or controlled because of the wind choosing their every movement. Sometimes she would sit there for days without moving, not even bathing or eating. Often her family members would have to force things down her throat in an attempt to keep her alive.

Pinn would bring her flowers every day, laying them around her room until it was covered in the wilting things, the smell of the blossoms coating her entire house. He liked roses the best and tried to tell her how he would go around and give them to some of the poorer people in the district, poor people like they had once been. He explained to her how gratefully he was that she had gotten them so much money, how much he loved her for being so brave. But she never spoke back, never responded, never told him that she loved him, too. She never even acknowledged him.

Rowan and Zephyr had left a permanent stain on her heart, one that would not be forgotten. It rocked her to her very soul. She saw the fallen tributes everywhere, in the world outside her window, in the flowers that surrounded her and woven into the soothing, distant words that fell on deaf ears.

"You made a great sacrifice," Her father told her one night as the sun was setting. "No one could ask you to do more."

She had a constant feeling of being trapped in a trance. The life was not her own and her body was not hers to control. Time lost its meaning as she sat there day after day, until Pinn himself had children and Feral's hair grayed. She could hear the children whispering as they walked by her home about the crazy old lady who had once been the Capitol's shining star, had once been beautiful. But her days were long gone and as she lay on her death bed she knew that things would never change, that they may seem to, but all things end the way they began, but yet that nothing happened the same way twice. The world was a complicated place, she knew this now. However, she would much rather stay where it was safe, in the confines of her mind where she could watch the clouds drift overhead. There she was young and beautiful, with wavy red hair that bounced when she ran and playful blue eyes that twinkled in the light. Her bare feet would slap the ground as she raced her family and friends through the forest. She would lie under the stars with Zephyr and duel her siblings in wooden sword matches. Life was simple there, like it had been once. Things were as they were, and pain was a distant fantasy of an adventurous child or an age-old story-teller. It seemed that she had discovered one of life's greatest secrets. When you gain something you will always loose something in return. Because of this, she had won the world… but lost everything in the process.

_Although my mark will fade away with time_

_ Life will stay the same_

_ Pain will continue to harm_

_ People will bow their heads in shame_

_ Children will cry all alone in the dark_

_ Beings will still die_

_ The night will rise in the day_

_ Lovers forget to say goodbye_

_ As the sun sinks below the horizon_

_ You must loose everything to gain_

_ What I have learned from my life_

_ Is that there is no room for a fox in a life of such pain_


End file.
